Apathy: Love for the Broken
by murtagh799
Summary: No one really knows what happened to the children of death eaters during the war, but when Hermione sees Malfoy halfway around the world, she's dying to find out. Abuse, death, angst, rape, violence. DRAMIONE. Dark content. Not compliant with epilogue.
1. Lost Souls

**12/06/11: Betaed by my wonderful beta - Raven of Red Wings**

A/N: Hey everyone! So this is my first Harry Potter fanfic and it is EXTREMELY DARK. Heed this warning carefully. This story will contain mature content. Other than that, review, I'd like to hear what you all think. This chapter is really short, because this story is a test run. The next chapters will be considerably longer. Thanks everyone.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything because my name is not J.K Rowling. Unfortunately.

**Chapter One: Lost Souls**

_**Draco: **_

I walk up and down the street, once, twice, thrice. Lose count, start all over. Can't really breathe properly, too many smokers around and the smog never really helped my lungs. I can't feel my insides.

I'm at a hundred and the homeless guy in the corner is starting to leer at me, so I walk on into the subway, wait, wait, wait, hop onto the train when it comes. I can't sit still, so I jiggle my leg. Bad habits always make me feel the best about myself. But really, I don't feel anything at all.

I try to fall into the step of the traffic, try to follow everyone out. Barely manage that and still I'm lost. No idea where I'm going, why I'm here, where I'm supposed to be. Am I really living?

I'm pushed and shoved through the throng of people rushing by on the street. This is the best kind of lost, no one really notices you and no one really gives a damn. Why would they? They're too busy to even notice themselves.

I carry myself to a park completely out of the way of my life, my apartment and the city itself. I like the inconvenience; it's something to do differently. I don't know the name of this place or the place where it's located. I prefer it. I don't know it, it doesn't know me. Being unknown is the safest way to be.

Here I sit, watch life go by. It's not like watching life in the city, here I can see how life destroys the unnecessary. This place has been abandoned for years, I can tell. No one but me comes here, that much I know. It's been abandoned by the world, just like me. It's as if we belong together.

I don't need to think here, no. What are my thoughts worth anyways? Thoughts aren't worth anything, people aren't either. But I'm not even a person anymore. Does that make me worth less? I think so. It's safe to be nothing.

Back to the city I go, living just a little more. One breath at a time is all I can manage. This is still difficult, the breathing part. Existing was never easy, though, since birth. At this thought, I shudder, but just pretend it's from the October chill. I still can't feel myself. Am I still real?

Hours later, I'm in a place that's familiar but not so very much. I want to be scared and hurt, but I can't feel it still. It's all gone. I see the number on the door that's supposed to be mine, but I'm not sure why. There are keys in my pocket, so I open the door. There is food on the table, but it seems like too much for me to eat all by myself. I'm not hungry, anyways. I don't deserve to eat, as it is. I don't deserve to be here. Why? I don't remember.

Must it be like that?

I lay myself on the bed that's in a room off to the side, a little. I don't remove the covers, just lay myself neatly over them, trying not to crinkle them. I fold my hands over my stomach and stare at the ceiling, waiting to sleep and die. Waiting to wake up and be born again.


	2. The Big City

**12/06/11: Betaed by the lovely Raven of Red Wings**

A/N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed, read, favourited, alerted. I wouldn't have posted this second chapter without you all. Now this is slightly longer than the last one, and I'm still testing this story idea. I'll try to be punctual with the updates. I'm thinking once a week is a good idea, how about you? I've just a lot of work in uni, so I'll try my best to keep that ideal. Any grammatical errors are my fault, I don't have a beta and kind of like keeping it that way. Tell me how you like it, any ideas or concerns you have and I'll get back to you.

Disclaimer: Wish I could own... let's not even continue that sentence.

**Chapter Two: The Big City**

_**Hermione:**_

Being the golden girl of the golden trio and one of the leaders of the "golden age" is hard to live up to. You've no idea _how_ hard, exactly. It's only been a few years since the war has ended, and still, the media is on my every move. It's as if I'm a celebrity or something. If I go to a restaurant with Harry and Ginny, that restaurant is the hot place for the month. If I wear anything remotely nice, every girl is advised to have it. What kind of media is the wizarding world running?

I didn't sign up for this crap. Life is hard enough without all of these goddamn reporters stalking me.

Harry and Ron were immediately picked up by the Auror Department at the Ministry of Magic. That came as a surprise to no one, _of course_. I, on the other hand was entitled undersecretary to the head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Which, by the way I ecstatically accepted and happen to regret to this day. It turned out that I was only offered the job because the Ministry wanted to show the wizarding public that the overly glorified war heroes were in their basket. Everything they were doing was just great.

Except it wasn't.

For one thing, the Ministry was not taking care of the issues the war left behind. We just didn't have the staff to take care of the issues at hand. The staff that we _did_ have either didn't care or were completely incompetent. I fell into the second category.

You see, I was completely inept at my job. What most people don't understand is that in order to be anywhere near the department of Magical Law Enforcement one must go to a wizarding law school. Not only did I have any idea what I was doing, but no one bothered to replace me with someone who knew what to do. Now imagine the prejudiced idiots still running about and all the muck voldyshorts left behind him. Like mass carnage and ruined international relations, not to mention, all of those who had to be compensated for everything they had lost. A quarter of the wizarding population had no homes to speak of.

I was meant to help enforce the law on these people under a man who was cheating on his wife with his young secretary.

It wasn't just that the job was difficult and I was being stalked day and night. There just wasn't any time to heal. How does one heal when the wizarding world needs you at its beck and call twenty four seven? I started getting nightmares about everything we'd gone through. They became a sort of normalcy after a while. One night I'd see Bellatrix, casting crucio after crucio and on other nights I'd hear Riddle in my head, taunting me, torturing my mind into madness. It never was the same.

Soon I began avoiding myself, reflections and all. The only mirror in my house became a small little vanity tucked away into a drawer. I couldn't face myself; I was more of a coward than Pettigrew. Slowly I started becoming empty. I felt a little bit of my soul wither every day, joking to myself that I was my own personal dementor. To everyone else, I just seemed the overworked, tired Hermione. Same as always, worrying about things I'd get done in fabulous fashion. Truth is, this wasn't Hogwarts anymore, and no one knew who I really was anymore.

Five years at that hell hole and I'd had enough. Yes, I am Hermione Granger, and I don't give up easily, but even I know when a cause is a lost cause. No, I have not given up on S.P.E.W.

So I left it all behind. Harry, Ron, Ginny, the Weasley's. Even my parents, who preferred Australia after everything they had gone through. By my hand no less. I left it all and came here, to New York City.

I hope I don't regret this decision as well.

_**Draco:**_

I woke up in the same position I had fallen asleep in. This was a good sign; I don't think anyone appreciates crinkled sheets. They scare me, they do. I can't remember why, but they're as ominous as things go subtly. I found myself wondering about it.

But thinking is a luxury I don't have any more.

I made myself gently get out of bed, so as not to disturb anyone else, even though there's really no one else in this place but me. Never has been as far as I can remember.

It's a curious thing, though, this place. Food magically appears, things get cleaned, laundry done. I don't know how it happens, but I can't make myself abandon it, no matter how hard I try. It won't leave me. It haunts me. I wish I could just disappear. Maybe it wouldn't find me there?

I ready myself for the day. This takes me long. It used to take me longer, for there used to be too many mirrors in this place. It would take me hours, for avoiding these mirrors are important. I cannot see myself without shock. But one day, they all disappeared. I looked and looked but found only one. A small vanity tucked into a dusty drawer right next to my forgotten wand. I know I could not vanished them. I haven't touched a wand in years.

Magic is the bane of my existence. It makes me shake to just think about it. I wish I could forget it all and be born a Muggle, but such things life did not give me. I am a Malfoy.

I..._was_ a Malfoy. Now I am just an outcast. I like it that way. It's safer than being forced into a legacy I never wanted any part of.

Thinking has made me sick and weak. I shake and feel faint when I think too much. The rest of the day, I spent lying in my bed, lightly, so as not to disturb the sheets.

I slept the night away too.

Breathing is difficult. Sometimes I wonder why we even bother to breathe. What am I breathing for? The question remains unanswered, even though sometimes I think about this for days on end. Slowly inhale, slowly exhale. Try not to make a sound. Maybe if I can mask my breathing, I will become invisible. This is why I like the city, I can breathe as loud as I want in the throngs of rushing people, but no one will notice me. Here, I am the essence of invisibility. I don't even need a cloak.

It is safe like this. You can't be hurt if you aren't there, right? This does seem logical. You cannot hurt the unknown. Not intentionally, anyways.

My mother used to tell me I was the most logical Malfoy she had ever seen. But then again, my mother wasn't the brightest herself. She married my father after all. This is a topic I try to avoid at all costs, but now that it's been breached, I must hide myself away from everything.

I move myself to lay under the bed, curling into a ball, hoping to protect myself. Just in time too, for the floodgates of my mind open and I'm bombarded with everything I am. Memories flood me, my person returns to me and I know who I am. I remember.

While I see all of this flash before my mind, I can hear everyone that ever meant something to me yelling in a slowly growing din in the background... It grows and grows until I have to put my hands over my ears to block it out. That never helps.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID, die, STUPID, broken, BROKEN, **BROKEN, **_**BROKEN**_**, **_**STUPID! **_Worthless, hateful, useless, useless, insane, garbage, empty, dying, faithless, worthless, worthless, stupid, stupid...

Broken

Loveless

Broken

Loveless

BROKEN

LOVELESS

_Will it ever stop?_

**A/N: How did you like Hermione? If anything seems out of place, just tell me!**


	3. The Old Life The New Life

**12/06/11: Betaed by Raven of Red Wings**

A/N: So, I made the deadline! Do you guys mind if I switch back and forth from Draco's point of view to Hermione's? I hope it's not annoying or anything. Also, is it long enough? I'm trying, really, but it gets hard to do when my week is so busy. SO MUCH WORK TO DO! Review and let me know. They make my life, your reviews.

**Chapter Three: The Old Life, The New Life**

_**Hermione:**_

I never thought I'd have this much junk to carry over. Let me tell you, getting to America is _not_ a piece of cake; neither is shipping over your things. So if you want to move this far, folks, make sure this is really what you want, because unless you're a rich, spoiled brat, it's probably too expensive to leave it all and go back home.

Not that I'm considering that, or anything. _Of course._

I live in some rent control apartment on the East Side of New York. At least, that's all I retained from the real estate agent that sold it to me. I know that's quite bad, not knowing things about where you live. Believe me, I'd gone through enough crap during the war and I'm not eager to go through things like that again. But I was much too concerned with getting my arse out of London. So when the real estate agent told me she had an apartment for me with a bedroom, washroom, in a relatively alright area, I said _why the hell not_and bust my way right to New York.

What the hell was I thinking?

I had landed myself into something rather dreary, if you think positively. This place was on some busy street or another, the name of which I still need to figure out, and it was positively frightful. The kitchen had linoleum of some sort of vomit green, the paint was peeling in places and the toilet, well. I didn't really want to open that door yet. My furniture was much too big for this place, and I hadn't really brought that much to begin with.

I was already depressed and I had only been here for about twenty minutes. In the city for less than a day. What was I going to do? There was nothing to go back home to. I couldn't beg for my job back at the ministry, and frankly, I didn't really want to. My friends would all just say, I told you so! Ron especially. Though that wanker takes too much pleasure in tormenting me, since I had dumped him a year after our relationship barely started. I don't know how Harry manages to be friends with him still. The war changed him more than it changed anyone else.

Though I don't blame him for it. He lost a lot more than he deserved to.

Sitting there, on the sort of bench they provided me in my room adjoined to the long windows in my room (which was the only upside of this dump of a place, by the way, they're absolutely _gorgeous_, even though they need cleaning), I realized that I had become more bitter than an old woman living with a bunch of cats. Well, I suppose, I am a woman living with a cat. Crookshanks is the only being that hasn't disappointed me all these long years.

So sitting here, by my beautiful windows, overlooking a Chinese take out, I resolved myself for the long gruelling hours fixing up my new life, my new home. It would take a lot of paint and magic.

I watched my cat jump onto my bed, yawn, and curl itself into a snug, furry ball. That little devil can always read my mind. Perhaps it really was time for a nap. I had a gruelling week ahead of myself, what with renovating and the new job...

Yawning, I joined Crookshanks on the bed, burying my face into his furry mane. He purred while a scratched behind his ears. I rather loved this cat... He would be with me forever. Or, at least I hoped so. Magical beings live much longer than ordinary ones. I smiled, thinking back to the Care of Magical Creatures class, and Hagrid. I missed home, but this was my new life.

But I swear if the American Ministry of Magic is as horrid as this place, I'm going to Switzerland for an early retirement!

_**Draco:**_

_When I was three, my mother would always spend every evening reading to me, and telling me stories, all kinds of stories. Sometimes, they would be about how wizards and witches were created to keep the bad and dirty blood in line and other times they wouldn't be stories at all. Just lectures, long, long lectures about how I was supposed to be the elite. I was pure._

_I realized years later that it was just indoctrination and not too long after that I learned not to question my parent's ideals unless I wanted to be whipped._

_I received my first lashing when I was six. It was cruel. I can still remember my mother silently crying in the corner while my father's belt bit into my skin, over and over. I thought she was sad because I was in pain, but later I found out that it was because I had failed them so greatly._

_At this point, I don't even remember what I had done to deserve that whipping, but I never understood. Not even when I stood there with my wand pointing at Dumbledore wondering what I was protecting, whose bidding I was doing. I never really cared for The Dark Lord. I just knew it was best to be afraid of him. My parents had given me that much indication at the very least._

_Even until the day he was vanquished I knew all my life that I would be broken... faithless... broken... loveless... afraid..._

_The life I was meant to live under this ruler, this saviour, blood cleanser, was simply a life meant to torture myself into nothingness. Each day, I could feel myself breaking slightly, becoming a shell, afraid, alone. That was the way my life was meant to be. I was never simply worthy enough to be the Malfoy heir, and so I would be tortured for it. I didn't deserve to breathe, that much I knew._

_So many memories I have of this suffering. It could take years before I remember it all. It all starts with a mother's tear stained face..._

"Master Draco, please, Master Draco out from under there's! We must get you to eat, we must. Dobby must, Dobby shall!"

"No, no. No. _No._Mother will sob. Can't have mother sob, she can't because of me."

"Master Draco, please out from under the bed, sir, out..."

"No. No. I must remember."

_**Hermione: (5 days later)**_

I'm not sure if I want to either slap myself silly or kill the American Wizarding population, or maybe just the ministry, I can settle for that. _Especially_ the male portion!

I suppose I should slow down a little bit. I'm tempted to just rant, though. Alas, I suppose I don't have time for such broodings. But perhaps I do.

My job here, in New York, hasn't exactly made itself clear. I've been shoved in the department of International Relations, which _seems_to be an important sector of the ministry, but it really isn't. The American ministry is located in a large skyscraper on Wall Street. I don't know what this says about the American Ministry, but I don't know if it's a really good image. Well, they all seem like dirty business men, so I suppose it's fitting. I'm not sure if this is meant to be intentional or not.

On my first day to work, I showed up entirely too hopeful and much too dressed up. For the first time since perhaps Fleur and Bill's wedding had I put more than an hour into my appearance? This turned out to be a _huge_mistake, seeing as all the males at work just _need_ a goddamn distraction. Not only does being a foreigner make you a novelty here, but a dressed up foreigner makes you a desirable "item". I also made the mistake of opening my mouth and spewing something intelligent at the board meeting in which I was introduced at.

The End Result: The women hate me, the men harass me, the older men look down on me, the older women ignore me and I'm shoved in a desk with mounds of useless paperwork and even more useless errands. Like being the resident coffee fetcher. How in the hell can a group of people drink that much coffee? It's only been a week, but I miss my old flat, my old friends and maybe my old job.

But only just a little.

This is like the start of my first year at Hogwarts all over again, when no one really liked me, and I was too much of a know-it-all to bear. In fact, I'd rather go back to that. Being an adult has much too many responsibilities. Come to think of it, why didn't I just apply for a job at Hogwarts? That would've been brilliant, but with too many memories to return to.

It's been five years but the damage from the war still hasn't been completely repaired. The castle is still recuperating, but the memories of everything will probably remain there for the rest of eternity.

I suppose work isn't all that bad, I could be working seventy hours a week with no accomplishments like I had been back in London. Maybe things here can perk up, right? It's only been a week. I can't just shoot down things like this. It isn't practical. I will go out sometime this weekend and explore. It's New York City, for god sakes!

Sighing, I threw myself down on my newly acquired couch. I've been spending my evenings fixing up the flat. I started with the disgusting bathroom; magically sweeping away all of the grime and transfiguring just about everything else to look... better, for lack of other wording. The enlargement charms definitely helped with the rest of the apartment as well.

Now, I live in a decent place. Who knew magic could be so handy, eh?

**A/N: So Draco and Hermione are going to meet in the next chapter. Was this chapter any good? I'm not so sure. And Hermione's interpretation of the ministry? She's not annoying yet is she?**


	4. Meeting the Inevitable

**01/07/12: Betaed by Raven of Red Wings**

A/N: I'm so sorry for skipping a week. I just got a tad depressed at the lack of reviews. Thank you to everyone who's reading. Let me know if this is worth continuing with.  
By the way, the slashes are to show you the chapter breaks because I'm rather stupid and don't know how to make it show up otherwise.

**Chapter Four: Meeting the Inevitable**

_**Hermione:**_

The days just go by so fast here, and life moves on whether you're coming along or not. Everyone wants to just go, go, go and you're either trampled on or pulled along. I've been lucky so far, managing to hold on, make it to the end of the week. Friday's, it turns out, are my sacred days. I love Fridays and consequently hate Mondays. Immature? I used to think so, back in the old days. These days, I'm just going with what comes naturally.

The weekends are my sanity and my apartment is my sanctuary. Soundproofed, cozy, sweet smelling and _home_. I wish I could just stay in here forever and not have to go back out there into the crazy world.

Work is as hectic as can be. Unfortunately, it turns out, my status as war hero and Golden Girl means absolutely nothing here. I suppose that was what I was after, but it's absolutely true. You don't appreciate what you have until you lose it all. Well, in my case, throw it all away. It's only been two weeks and I'm considering quitting life in America and finding something else for myself in the world.

So I've decided to immerse myself in the little things in life.

Friday evenings are my time to cook extravagantly after which I watch a movie on the telly for some entertainment. That, or read. Saturday mornings, I clean, sanitize the place, actually. It's not that I'm a clean freak, I just need something to fill the time. Cleaning like a muggle after all these years really gets you to appreciate magic all over again. Saturdays I catch up on all the work I need to do before the next dreaded work week starts, after which I hit the city with the intention of doing something stress relieving. I haven't managed to do this last part properly yet, seeing as working drains the life out of me. How can anyone find so many menial tasks to dish out, I've no idea.

Sundays, I've taken up jogging in the morning, after which I wind down my weekend at home. I intend to keep this habit up. It can't hurt to keep in shape, can it? I jog in Central Park. This just happens to be one of my childhood dreams, living in New York and jogging in Central Park. Long ago, when I was a little kid who didn't know I really was an awesome witch in making, I had always fantasized about moving to the United States and working for a publishing company, read all the books in the world and live happily ever after.

I suppose I got half of what I wanted, at least.

This week at work, I finally made a decent acquaintance with a girl who is too shy to be harmful. I had not packed a lunch that morning and had to resort to eating in the cafeteria because my lunch hour didn't allot enough time to go out and find a decent place to grab a bite. I had learned on my very first day that the cafeteria here, and back home as well, is a place you want to completely avoid. There food isn't _exactly_the most nutritious nor appetizing.

In the cafeteria, I found myself lined behind a girl who seemed to stand in full stature. She seemed uncomfortable as hell and fidgeting. As we moved up closer to the till, she pulled out her wallet, to pay for whatever it was she was going to order but unfortunately, the contents of her wallet exploded. The poor dear had to scramble all over the floor for loose change and other personal items. No one but me bent down to help her.

The amount of times she said thank you, amazed me. Were people actually that grateful for such small acts of kindness?

She's really too sweet to be working in such a place. She's one of the few females who works in the department of Transportation, and consequently harassed on a daily basis, which she has learned to live with the two years she's been working here.

After whispering thank you to me at least a million times, she looked around her, hoping no one was paying too much attention to her. Well, no one really, except the man who was finished paying for his food in front of her.

"Keep sharp, Zara, eh?" he leered at her. This just made the poor girl, who I figured was named Zara, blush even deeper and scramble even quicker for her things.

"Sorry..." she muttered.

He clucked at her, actually _clucked_, "clumsy, clumsy, can't do anything _right_ can you? How is it that you manage to keep a job and a house all on your own?" This man, whoever he was, pissed me off more than I needed to be pissed off. I was already having a bad day and all.

"Accidents happen, chap, move along." Zara stared at me with wide eyes, clearly shocked a stranger was standing up for her. I guess people don't do much for others anymore.

"And who are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"A very impatient customer whose lunchtime you're eating up."

He seemed a little taken aback with my deadpanned response, or must have been, anyways, as he walked off with a little shake of his head. Zara just stood there motionlessly with her mouth a little open. Later I found out that that was the first time the arsehole had left without picking too much of a fight.

"Come on, sweetheart, you're next in line," I motioned for her to go, as everyone else was started to get a little miffed at the hold up.

As she waited on her coffee and sandwich I asked, "So who was that?"

"My ex-husband," she muttered, sheepishly.

"Well, shit."

We spent the rest of the lunch hour together, and by the end of it, I was slightly relieved there was at least one person at the entire ministry that didn't hate my guts.

/

That Sunday, I went out for my run a little bit later than usual, around one in the afternoon. I should be miffed at myself for sleeping in late, but what are weekends for anyways? Walking briskly towards Central Park in the chill, I made a mental note to myself to do the groceries, and perhaps try to beat my own record today.

Putting on my Walkman, I began jogging, slowly at first then falling into the rhythm, barely paying attention to the little kids and couples walking around, nor the other joggers. The leaves were already turning colour and it was easy as hell to lose myself in the brilliant orange and red hues, barely even hearing the low quality din my headphones shot into my ears.

This was really unfortunate for it sent me colliding into another body, knocking me flat onto my back and the other person stumbling a few steps before looking back.

I got onto my knees, panting and apologizing, looking up into the glare of the sunlight to see the person's face. I wasn't expecting them to be nice, as they hadn't even offered me a hand to get up but what I _wasn't_ expecting was to see Draco Malfoy's pale face staring down at me, unconcernedly.

I quickly got to my feet, mouth open down to my knees, probably, I was that shocked. He, however, didn't seem to recognize me, whatsoever, or even care that a damn _mudblood_ had collided right into him. What was he even doing in America? It seems my past is stalking me, once again.

Pulled out of my reverie, I looked at him, noticing he was still staring at me, waiting for a response or not I don't know. It didn't seem like he had a care in the world. I was still gaping at him. Blushing, I first shut my mouth, swallowed a few times to give myself time to pull myself together and cleared my throat.

"Hello, Malfoy..." I waited, but got no response. He wasn't going to hold a grudge after all these years was he? I suppose he _was_raised by a bunch of death eaters and probably indoctrinated beyond help, after all, he had tortured me for six years at school.

"Ahm... so what brings you to New York?" I waited again, but still got no response. This was becoming increasingly awkward. He was just standing there, staring at me. Barely, that is, he barely seemed to be listening, he was unfocused. The whole air around him just screamed _lost_ and _barely there_. His face had no sign of his trademark sneer and hatred I'd become so used to at school. He looked absolutely the same, except he'd grown much taller.

I almost wished he'd throw an insult at me, it would be better than this awkward experience.

"Anyways, I suppose-"

"Can I go now?" he finally spoke up.

_How embarrassing!_"Um... yeah, sure, Malfoy, go ahead."

I stood there, scratching my overgrown mane of hair, thoroughly confused and slightly mortified at what had happened. Abandoning the idea of completing my run, I found an abandoned section of the park, hid behind some bushes and aparated home.

/

I thought about him all day, while I was in the shower, while I cooked for myself, washed the dishes, barely watched the telly and especially while I finally resigned myself to go to bed.

What had _happened?_

I had thought that maybe, perhaps, there was a small possibility that I had mistaken some random New Yorker for Malfoy, but I immediately put that thought out of my mind because Malfoy simply cannot be confused. Was it possible for anyone to have such pale blonde hair naturally? Or deep grey eyes. No, those couldn't possibly be confused with another else. Or those clean cut features...

I had always thought of him as looking aristocratic, albeit snotty as hell back in those days, but beautiful nonetheless.

I thought back to earlier that day, remembering looking up at him and how the sun had made him look like he was glowing. Yes, definitely aristocratic, and even more beautiful than I had remembered him, but was that because I was lonely? I don't know.

But what the hell was wrong with the kid?

Remembering how he had just stood there, barely paying attention to me, hardly even recognizing me, kind of shocked me. What had he gone through to make him be this way? Had the war screwed him over as well? Curiosity burned within me and I silently tried to repress the hope that I'd see him again, hoping that maybe this time, he'd actually recognize me.

Shivering, I hugged my blanket close and sank into dreams filled with soft blonde hair and piercing grey eyes, huddling into my pillow and pretending it was someone warm to sleep with.

/

As the work week came, Malfoy was completely put out of my mind and instead replaced with my interesting new friend, Zaranella Michuvitz, whom everyone just called Zara.

She was _so_very interesting as I came to find out. Not only is she damn beautiful, she loves to read as much as I do and graduated top of her class when she attended The American Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

I learned that she had given up all of her dreams and ambitions of becoming a professor to marry the previously met arsehole, Gary Newtman. They had a happy few months and a child before she discovered his abusiveness, drinking habits and addiction to pornography and whores. It was another three years before she was able to divorce him.

However, it turns out that Gary, who happens to be well in with the American Minister of Magic, had a lot of power to make Zara's life hell, which, being the bastard he is, did. The only place she was able to get hired to feed herself and her kid, was at the ministry where he works.

Now the bastard just finds every way he can to humiliate her and ridicule her. It wasn't a pleasant sight to see.

Zara and I became fast friends, meeting each other after work, and sticking together during our lunch hours. I was so glad to have finally made a fast friend in New York.

Always did have difficulty meeting new people, after all. This just happened to be an experience that wasn't for the worst.

**A/N: The next chapter will have Draco's account of their meeting. Is this any good? Shall I make it longer than this or is this length manageable?**

**Thanks so much you all!**


	5. Lingering

**01/07/12: Betaed by Raven of Red Wings**

_A/N:_So here we are, on time. It's not really long, but I think it's manageable, what about you? Should I make them longer?

Draco is a little creepy, but I rather like it. He's going to be rather strange in the next few chapters. So let me know what you think, I appreciate all kinds of criticism. Love you lots!

-Murt

**Chapter Five: Linger**

_**Hermione:**_

Blank. Blank. Blank. _Goddamnit_. Blank. Blank. Blank. GODDAMNIT. Blank. Blank. Blank. _GODDAMNIT_!

This is the mantra that was playing in my head as I looked at the empty piece of parchment in front of me, twirling my quill between my fingers. I was meant to write a proposal to the minister on implementing safety precautions, because I just _had _to open my mouth during the department meeting this morning. Now, I'm stuck with the "brilliant" job, and I've got nothing.

Not that the din of this place is helping, anyways. People are so obnoxious and loud, _especially_ when they know you have work to do.

Sighing, I pushed away the empty parchment and leaned back in my chair, resting my head against the chair. This was meant to help, but all I did was knock my head against the wall my desk is pushed up against. I heard a chuckle and squinted one eye open.

"Look sharp, Granger," said the man passing by my desk. Said man, Kevin Green, worked at the desk next to me and just happens to be gorgeous. Brown hair, light blue eyes, and a dimple on his left cheek when he lazily smiled. Like he was doing right now, right at me. Gosh, how beautiful.

I stuck my tongue out at him and pretended to go back to work while secretly hoping he'd continue to talk to me. But really, if he wasn't going to make an effort, I really _did _have work to do.

_Three...two...one..._

"Nice work at the meeting this morning, by the way. Screwed yourself over real well, didn't you?" Bingo. I looked over at him once more and tried to make some sort of non committal gesture or noise, but it really just sounded more like a strangled moan.

But he laughed. So I'm saved. Don't give me dirty looks, women. I haven't met a decent guy who appreciates me in years. Since Victor Krum, actually, and he turned out to like men more than women, so let's not venture down that road.

"Want to have dinner with me?"

Wait. What did he just say?

"What did who just say...?" he looked confused. Did I just say that out loud? I think I did.

"_What?" _I'm sure I looked a little shocked and taken aback, and he looked mortified at the situation he was in. I just asked out an insane girl, is what he's probably thinking right about this moment. I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid-

"Are you just trying to distract me? You don't _have _to go out with me, I didn't mean to offend you, I suppose it'll make things awkward since we work together, right next to each other and all but I just thought that-"

"Yes," I cut him off. He had a nervous ranting streak oddly similar to mine. How shocking. I thought I was alone in this world.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. You know what, don't even mention it, I'll-"

"Yes, I'll go out with you, silly." Come to think of it, he's actually really cute when he's nervous. I actually make a man nervous, now _there's _a thought! Things are really starting to look up now. I've a friend, and a date with an amazingly brilliant looking guy. I grinned happily for the rest of the day. And yes, I know, I probably looked like a maniac, but let me have my happiness while it lasts!

Now I suppose I should work, since, you know, the whole point of moving to New York was to get a better job.

About that...

Blank. Blank. Blank. GODDAMNIT!

I guess some things never change.

_**Draco:**_

I'd definitely seen her before. Big brown hair, brown eyes, lots of talking, _distracting. _I'd definitely seen her somewhere. Known her... been with her?

In lives past, perhaps.

It can't be safe to be so delicate, can it? Small and delicate. She looked breakable. Was she breakable? Did I _break_ her? Maybe that's why she talked to me. I don't remember, all I could see was her lips moving and moving and moving. Do people do that a lot? Move their lips... It doesn't seem healthy. Quiet is healthy, she wasn't quiet. She can't be healthy.

But being unhealthy is familiar. Maybe I could...

No. Finding her would not be safe. This is safe, laying on my bed. Safety is good, is it not? I should stay safe. But she was so _colourful_! It makes me feel bland. Should I stay bland? Bland has always been safe. Nondescript. She wasn't nondescript, though, I remember. She was colourful.

It was scary. She is scary. Where have I seen her before?

No one has stopped me in a crowd before. I thought I had blended in so well... do I need to change myself? Am I too noticeable? I need to be invisible... But she saw me, she did. Maybe she sees everything, because I am invisible. Invisible is the only way to be anymore, I cannot change. But she seemed so warm... so warm...

I slowly sit up to make sure not to crinkle my lovely sheets. I seem to be getting quite good at this endeavour, for I do not crinkle them anymore. Lovely, lovely sheets... I wonder how she would look on these lovely sheets. Not so cold. But she shan't crinkle them, she shan't. She must be softer than these sheets, I am sure...

But I shan't abandon the safety for a muse. But is it so bad to think of a muse? A muse is only a thought. It isn't as if I am searching for her. Not in the least... not ever. I won't look for trouble.

Though I wish I know why she irks my memory so. Should I know her? I should know nothing. Knowing things can only lead to trouble. Knowing things gives one responsibility. One should know nothing and simply assimilate into the crowd. No one can blame me for anything, can they? I didn't do anything. I'm invisible, I'm invisible, I am...

My heart starts to hurt, thinking that I may never know who she is. But it hurts more thinking that I may not be safe here anymore. How can I leave this place? It won't let me leave. Not only that, but I hardly remember a life before this one. Has it been forever? I do not know. Should I remember?

No. Definitely not. I shouldn't try to think of horrid things. That is not who I am anymore, that is not what I want in my life. It must stay in the locked box and never come out. Not when I cannot control it. Not during the day...especially not during the day...

I try to think of something else, to calm me, to take away those bad thoughts and lock it away again in the deep, dark recesses of my nonexistent mind and nothing comes. So I grasp and try again to empty my mind, or at the very least fill it with something else. All I can think of is the small girl that had outed me in such a public place! Destroyed my peace for the day and disrupted my thoughts. But she sounds like a change from this, safety net. This monotone. What am I really, if not safe?

I find myself under my bed, once more, so soon! This time, not to remember, but to think of the softness that I met. To imprint it into my thoughts so that maybe, just maybe, I can forget myself and just be her.

Just be soft.

But as I look at the bottom of my bed, I realize all that I am. All that I will be and promptly forget everything of my present and immerse myself into my past. And I cry, slowly, softly. Not because of the pain, for I have steeled myself so finely towards such things, but because I do not deserve to be soft, and I crave it so.

I die a little more, and sleep, only to wake up to die again.

**A/N: So what do you think? PLEASE REVIEW!**

**In the next chapter, Hermione is going to see Draco again and may or may not stalk him. ;)**


	6. It's hard to Live in the City, or is it?

**A/N: Right, well, I'm sorry for the delay and all. But I got caught up doing things, studying and such. Also, I know you're going to hate me, but this chapter is short. In fact, they're all short. I can't really do much about that at the moment, because if I force myself to write more than what is here, it'll come out terribly. **

**Special thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, alerted, or even read. **** Makes my life lovely, it does! **

Chapter Six:

Despite the fact that I had come here to make my life better, I constantly felt guilty for leaving everything behind and feeling _good_ about it too. Humans, I've discovered, are emotionally wired creatures and most of the time, these emotions rarely make sense. This is for the better, right?

But by now, even _I _am completely sick of hearing myself rant about if moving here was a good thing or not. However, the recent bout of owls from home have just... sped my thought process along by miles. They started on the third week, and just never stopped.

_Dear Hermione, _

_So, how's the infamous American Ministry? I can't believe you actually left us here to deal with Molly all by ourselves. We all thought you were extremely happy with all of your success at the ministry. It's really a pity that you've gone, though, we all miss you to a fault. Perhaps you'll reconsider? Or at least visit. _

_Yours truly,  
Kingsley Shaklebolt_

This set of correspondence was the first and the last from my very beloved Minister of Magic. I think he felt compelled to write to me because I had accidently kissed him during a ministry Christmas function after having had one too many to drink, if you know what I mean. Afterwards, he had always seemed a little too close for comfort, in my opinion, but it was all harmless, I'm sure.

_Hi, Hermione, _

_Do people say hi in letters? I don't know. You're overseas now so I suppose it's fine. I miss you, there I said it. And everyone else misses you too, so it's not just me. Not that it would just be me, you're too easy to love. For everyone. Not just me.  
Anyways, mum wants us to try to get you back here so I can properly marry you and settle down, have a dozen kids like she did. That was a joke, by the way. I know you made yourself clear when you moved, but can't blame a bloke for trying._

_Ron_

_Hermione, _

_My life is in ruins without you, come back PLEASE. I was promoted head of the Auror department, as you very well know, and I can't really do anything here. It's chaos. By the way, Ron's Mum is planning to come over there and kidnap you. She's eating my head about letting you go. I don't think she ever took that break up between you and Ron quite well.  
How's America? You haven't written and told us much, so I'm going to badger you until you do. Anything interesting going on? _

_Love, Harry._

_PS: Ron is going to write to you, but it's going to be awfully awkward for the both of you. Thought I'd do you a favour and let you know. _

_PPS: Sorry...I delayed in sending this letter, it's been sitting on my desk for a while. I guess you've already received Ron's train wreck. SORRY._

Out of all of my friends back home, only Harry was supportive of any decision I made. In fact, I was still cross with a lot of them for making such a fuss about me leaving. Mrs. Weasly had refused to speak to me until a week before I had left in hopes that I would see my way and keep her happy by taking Ron back into my life and staying in the Ministry.

Ron had completely avoided the topic, when we actually spoke, which in itself was an enigma. He had pretended that nothing was happening and that we were, in fact, still youngsters going out. He'd buy me flowers and chocolates, then get upset when I told him it was not appropriate. The man was a child, but I still adored him. For old time's sake. But that didn't mean I'd marry the fool! Last I heard, Lavender was still pining after him. Perhaps I'd write her a letter to encourage her to sweep the man off his feet.

George had tried to prank me into staying, which didn't work and so he realized that he couldn't stop me, instead, offered to help. Which he didn't, instead went back to pranking. I can't say I enjoyed finding my underwear drawer completely bright hot pink and all of my clothes white. And unchangeable no matter what spell I tried. I ended up wearing long coats and sweaters to work for three days until Harry finally had the decency to tell George to take a break.

Everyone else just seemed shocked and awkward about the situation, wondering why on earth I'd want to leave my prestigious job, my brilliant friends and life to go to _America._ They all thought I was happy. Only Harry saw how miserable I was. Only he knew about the nightmares and unsettling thoughts I had after the war that to this day still haunt me. He was the only one who could actually understand what I had gone through, but only because he had gone through worse and actually managed to get past it.

I was not as strong.

Life here has been better for me, though, has been getting better. My date with Kevin for one, had been a blast. He had taken me out one evening for a long stroll in the park, and then we had eaten lunch on the steps of the Met after which he took me to my first wizarding museum in New York.

...For Witches fashion history of New York.

So alright, it was dull as hell, but he was a gentleman, considerate unlike everyone else I had dated before and attempted to try to do things I should like, being a woman and all. Can't blame a guy for trying, right? But the mitigating factor would have to be that he is by far, the most gorgeous wizard I have met so far.

Kevin Greene is ideal. He's tall, 6'2'' to be precise, dark curled hair that seems touchable from a distance and drool worthy up close, strong in appearance and gentle persona and his voice...well, I'm melting just thinking about it. It's occurred to me that it's rather immoral dating a guy just because he looks ravishing. I've decided that at the moment, I don't really care. No one has to know.

The only thing that bothers me about him is that he thinks I'm rather...slow. Perhaps even dimwitted. The audacity of the thing blew me away, I mean, thinking Hermione Granger is _stupid? _It's the very thing I'm set completely against all the way to my core. _Especially_ at my core! At first I thought it was just the way he was, you know, strange, and now I have no way of correcting him.

I'm not exactly sure what to do about it. At this point in my life, I don't really want to do anything about it, seeing as things had been going great.

Ah, well. This weekend, however, will be a great one. I've already gotten my work done for this week and the next, so I'll be completely free. Kevin has asked me go out with him on Saturday and I'll have all day to prepare for him and his odd perspective of me.

In other words, I was going to get myself prepared with all the knowledge I can that's appropriate to spew in a normal conversation.

No one, absolutely _no one, _thinks Hermione Jean Granger is mentally incompetent!

_**Draco: **_

If I had a mind, I believe I have lost it.

Everywhere I go, all I see are world breaking, bushy brown haired women. People look at me everywhere I go. People notice me. They can _see _me. And it's all because of that damn woman. If I find her, I shall scream. But finding her seems impossible. Everyone is her, and they all know me. She knows me. Why don't I know her?

My body hurts. I walk, I eat, I sleep, I breathe. But all I can think about is how my life is in tumbles. I have not been sought out and spoken to in public in years and years and years. I cannot remember a time where it was regular to be spoken to. How do people do it?

I'm scared and in pain. Sometimes I wake, gasping and choking, not being able to feel my limbs, soaked in sweat only to realize it's not night time anymore, but the day. Rays of sunlight licking at your skin... it's not safe. Only the night is safe, but the night is for wandering. For walking and eating and breathing. One cannot do such things safely during the day. It is not safe anymore.

The girl has made it so.

Now the only time to be safe is during the night, where you can hide in the darkness. The darkness has always accepted me, I do not need to remember the horrid past to know that. It claims me, soothes me, holds me... It was better than my own mother. Raised me, it did. That was why I chose to sleep during the night, so that it could protect me while my mind turned to the chaotic side.

Is it possible to be insane and sane at the same time?

**A/N: Now I know I said Hermione was going to stalk Draco, but that will come in the next chapter... please review anyways!**


	7. Strangeness in the Night

**a/n: Hi everyone! Yes, I know it's been a long time and you probably don't ever want to see my face or read this... but to be fair, I had the decency of coming up with excuses! I won't bore them with you, because there's no excuse for being absent that long.**

**So in apology, I made this chapter extra long and insane. This is from Hermione's point of view. **

**Should I continue? Please review!**

**Chapter 7: Strangeness in the Night**

**Hermione: **

_He reaches into his pocket to grasp the only form of defence he has, his keys. The sharp dig of them into his palm, slowly scraping, slowly grating, ripping his toughened skin brings him to a sort of reality. Biting on his tongue as he feels a drop of blood begin to roll down his now unfurled fingers, he lets out a little groan, barely noticeable. Or so he had hoped. Quickly checking himself, he quiets. _

_He is sitting on the floor of a vast room, high ceilings, high windows, high doors. Oversized. It is a place made for the giants, but it is empty. Devoid of furniture and life, except for the curious exception of a too tall bird cage, placed on a sort of pole extended directly from the ground. In it is a small, bright yellow canary, chirping, racing across its cage, perhaps fighting to escape? It is almost as if he could hear the little bird's heart thumping. The bird knows there is something wrong here too. _

_He curls into himself, realizing he can see his breath puff out in front of him as he slowly, shakily, exhales. Shivering, he pulls his legs to his front, closer, dreading the actions. He ought not to direct as much attention to himself as he already had. Resting his head on his knees, he watches and he waits. For what, no one knows. _

_It's as if his blood is slowly freezing right in his veins, and his heart is slowing down, as if caring about the body it works for is completely irrelevant to resting, and he knows that if his eyes droop slowly closed, he will not wake to see the bird fly. _

_But as he continues to stare at the little canary, flying tiredly around its cage, he realizes that the canary no longer flies. In fact, it is not a canary at all, but a crow, trapped within the cage, but not caring any longer. Its feathers are lank, matted, and it is the most pitiful bird he has ever laid eyes on. It seems even more tired than he. It smiles at him, slowly, pitifully, as if he knows exactly what he himself is going through, and together they slowly close their eyes together. Slowly, they both gently sleep. _

_And never wake up..._

I woke with a start, shivering but sweating at the same time. Tossing the heavy blankets I normally slept with off of me, I sat up, sitting on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands. My head hurt.

Remembering the odd dream that had been the cause of my abrupt awakening, I groaned. What was wrong with me? I'd been having disturbing dreams since the end of the war, but nothing quite like this. In fact, I'd grown accustomed to blood, violence and fear but... not this oddity of a nightmare. It was just _despair. _This was something I never did well dealing with. Yes, I was a new found realist/pessimist but despair was something that broke me on a daily basis.

What was worse was the object of the dream. Something that'd been plaguing my mind since that day at the park and my failed run. That's right, a certain tall, lean blonde, who was mysterious as hell. I don't know how I'm sure it was him in the dream, the dream itself had become blurry in my mind already, as it was. But I had a strong feeling, an insane compulsion to believe that it _had _been him. Shaking myself, I realized I'd not be getting back to sleep tonight, glad it was a Friday night.

Glancing at the clock I realized it was well past three in the morning. So I suppose it's already Saturday. I groaned at myself internally, acknowledging I'd have to hide the horrid bags that would no doubt be under my eyes, for my date later on in the day.

I was looking forward to that, I told myself.

But nothing really could get the unsettling feelings that sleep had burrowed into my mind and I could feel it growing, sprouting its tentacles deeper into my brain, making itself a permanent presence...

Grabbing my coat and scarf I made a run for the door, feeling as if I stayed here even a second longer I'd suffocate to death. And then haunted by creeping dreams for the rest of eternity. Now, I realize that I'd been a little bit irrational, running out the door because of some silly dream at near four in the morning whilst living in New York. It can't be exactly the safest thing a girl can do. But I'd fought death eaters in a war, and survived. I can't say I was _too _worried. Actually, I wasn't really thinking at all.

Walking the dirty streets actually helped. The smoggy, questionable air cleared my mind, and I was actually beginning to develop a smile on my face. Regaining my sanity always brought a smile to my face, well I suppose regaining what's left of it anyways. I was just about to turn back and go home when I spotted a very pale blonde head walking on the other side of the road aimlessly.

My heart almost stopped. If I didn't know better, I'd have added "literally!".

Ducking quickly behind a parked car on my side of the street, I thanked Merlin for the quick reflexes I'd developed during the war. Slowly, carefully, I poked my head around the car and watched him stride slowly, carelessly along the sidewalk. He didn't look anywhere but ahead of him, and it seemed as if he didn't care. When he had passed me, I slowly got up and ungraciously followed, feeling odd as I did.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't something I would normally do. This was Harry's kind of thing, tailing Malfoy and all. But the man had been behaving odd and I'd been having bad dreams about him for god sakes! It was also about five in the morning by that time and I was thoroughly sleep deprived. Not that I'm trying to justify my actions or anything of the sort. Violating someone's privacy is something I'm completely against, mind you! I just wasn't thinking I suppose... wasn't thinking about _much_ except figuring out what he was doing here and why he was out at this time of day.

So we walked, to the most random places too, places I'd never been to and probably wouldn't ever have gone if I hadn't been tailing the odd character. I'd gotten exasperated when he stopped idly by a dumpster in an alleyway that had a dead end. It'd looked like he was contemplating why anyone would create a dead end or even possibly, _what am _I _doing in an alleyway that just ends? _

I can't say I know what he was thinking. I've a strong feeling that he wasn't paying attention to where he was going.

Eventually, we ended up in a deserted park. It was quite the creepy kind too, with the creaky swing set and all squeaking and moving with the wind. He'd sat down at a rusty looking bench and I'd gotten a chance to appraise him properly, while feeling like a deranged stalker.

He seemed tired, definitely looked it too. He had bags under his eyes, which wasn't surprising looking at the time it was and how far we had walked. I honestly had no idea where we were, but we'd walked a good while. He was slouched, and clutching his stomach. His clothes were ratted and stained, quite torn in places but it didn't look like he cared much about it.

Raising his hand to his face, he wiped his hair out of his face, pushing it out of the way. When he'd completed the action, I saw a dark streak on his forehead...something that looked slightly akin to...

_Blood!_

I panicked, ran towards him, startling him in the process when he caught sight of me. His eyes widened and he leaned back in shock. I became aware of the growing stain in his sweater... (Yes, the idiot man was wearing only a _sweater _in this kind of weather!) it was definitely blood.

I saw him recoil then, at the sight of me and I suppose he'd finally recognized me. But I wouldn't let that put me down, no. He needed help, he was _bleeding! _At the time, I'm not sure exactly why I was so painfully frightened. Maybe because as far as I was aware he was the only connection to my past life in this city. Or maybe because I realized on a subconscious level that he was more messed in the head than I was.

I walked slowly, cautiously towards him, "Malfoy...it's alright." I saw him visibly cringe at the name. That was odd.

"Draco. Just let me see." He relaxed a bit, and I stepped as close as he would let me. I looked at him, tried my best to be reassuring. He seemed scared as hell of me, and I suppose he didn't trust me at all. I don't blame him, he seemed as if he were in stress. A wounded animal...

When I'd spoken enough nonsense to calm him down, I kneeled in front of him and unzipped his sweater. At first it struck me odd that someone like Malfoy would resort to walk around in muggle clothing, but then all trivial, irrelevant thoughts were wiped out of my mind when I saw the amount of blood that had soaked through the white shirt he'd been wearing underneath.

Gingerly lifting it, I prepared myself for what I was about to see. On hindsight, it could've been much worse. The actual injury wasn't so bad, really... it was just the shock of this situation that got to me. There was a gash from his hip up along his side. It was relatively shallow and seemed to have opened up recently. I silently brought out my want that was always on my person, even when I slept, and healed him mumbling the incantation.

When I looked up I saw him staring at me wondrously, his hand was raised as if he were about to touch my face, but it was trembling. He was shaking like a life. I then slowly realized it was freezing cold outside and concern washed over me anew.

I took my scarf from around my neck and wrapped it around his, then over his head to protect his amusingly red ears. Zipping up the now ruined sweater, I pulled the tattered hood over his ruffled hair. As my fingers brushed against the golden strands, I was washed over with the realization that it was the softest thing I'd ever felt. At this point, I was no doubt blushing like an idiot.

"You should rub some dittany over that, so you can avoid scarring. It was quite shallow, but you can never be to safe, can you?"

He just stared at me, except this time his eyes were wide as if he'd _just _come to realize that I was a real person. Or that I was actually there. He didn't respond, needless to say.

"Malfoy?" He cringed again. Cursing myself for not catching onto my mistake a second time I took a deep breath and tried again. "I'm sorry, Draco."

But again, he just stared at me. I began to wonder if he had brain damage or if an accident had left him this way. I tried again, anyhow, speaking slowly, clearly, as if to a child. "Do you have any dittany at home, Draco?"

He said nothing, I could see conflict behind his eyes. "Do you-"

But he cut me off, speaking quietly so that I had to strain to hear. "I...don't know..." He sounded uncertain. At first I'd thought he just didn't know if he had any dittany at home. Later, much later, I'd come to learn that he was just uncertain if he ought to be talking to me at all. He was conflicted, but I hadn't picked up on it. Perhaps if I had I wouldn't have taken him so freely to my blessed apartment.

At that point the only thought that was going through my head was that everyone deserved second chances, and I pictured my favourite dear old headmaster saying it to me smilingly, in his crazy old way.

"Come on, then, I know I have some at my place. What happened to you, anyways?" I wasn't really expecting a response. Grabbing his hand, I helped him up, noticing the grimace of pain. I was glad that he hadn't said anything out of line to me yet. I was secretly hoping this meant that he had changed for the better. Little did I know that he _had _change, irrevocably, and probably not for the better.

"I'm going to apparate us, okay?" He just dumbly nodded.

I held onto his hand tighter and found the gesture comforting, not realizing how horridly lonely I'd been up to this point.

"Are you ready?" I waited for him to respond, but realizing he probably wouldn't, I was surprised when he squeezed my hand to indicate that he probably was. I smiled reassuringly at this wary face, which was towering well above my short frame, and turned.

We landed square in the middle of my apartment, proud that the wards I'd placed on it worked. One could not apparate in or out unless their magical signature was not previously weaved into the ward beforehand. I'd created it myself, though being the perfectionist that I am, I decided I'd wait and perfect the idea first.

Looking at Malfoy, I noticed he was clutching himself again. Apparently, he didn't like apparation at all. I didn't blame him, really... it wasn't the most lovely experience after all.

Conjuring him a squishy chair, I had him sit before I went to get him a glass of water. He accepted graciously and eagerly gulped it down. I let out a giggle when some slipped over the rim of the glass and spilled down his neck. He seemed too engrossed in drinking to care much.

"May I have another?" he asked in his meek, timid voice. It would be odd, getting used to that change in him. He'd been so bold at school. Demanding, arrogant definitely.

"Of course." And we repeated that process three times until he'd had his fill of water. It occurred to me that he had probably been dehydrated. When was the last time he'd eaten?

I made him soup and a sandwich, which he ate without being forced, while I gently applied the dittany to his stomach, noticing how lean and muscular he was. The man always had been rather fetching, hadn't he?

After he had finished, I ushered him to my shower, realizing he was grimy and parts of him still caked in blood. Still, he didn't say anything. It seemed as if he was relieved, being told what to do.

While he was gone, I magically removed the stains from his clothes, blood and otherwise, then put them in the wash. Perhaps I had become a clean freak, but I found that magic wasn't enough to clean one's clothes. By the time he had finished showering walking out with the towel I'd given him wrapped around his waist, he stood there awkwardly waiting to be told what to do. I had a feeling this was the first human contact he'd had in a while. He displayed all the signs I'd read about... Had he come to America to be a social recluse?

I wouldn't pry just yet, he looked just about dead on his feet. I'd intended on asking him where he lived so that I could help him get there, but I realized just how starved for company that I'd actually had a connection to, no matter how meaningless. I _had _gone to school with this bloke. Known him since I was eleven in fact!

So I offered. "You could sleep here, if you'd like, I don't mind. You can leave when you're well rested... that way I'll see if your cut is better in the morning," I said, gesturing to his bare abdomen. Though I think both of us knew that his injury had been completely healed at this point. He didn't say anything, he seemed a little confused by my suggestion.

"Sleep?" he questioned, wearily. As if he didn't quite understand the concept.

"Yes, Draco, sleep." I silently cheered myself for remember not to call him _Malfoy. _I'd have to remember to ask him about that sometime, if we actually kept contact after this. I was hoping we would, dreadfully. I did need more friends. Life was always easier to live with friends around. It really was time everyone got over their pasts and became true friends with each other.

_As if he'd ever want to be friends with someone like you. You're a mudblood, remember? _My inner voice taunted me. I promptly told it to shut up and silently waited for his response, wondering if it would come at all.

"Sleep...where?" It seemed like he was thoroughly confused, and I had no idea why that was the case. Did he have a concussion? I should have checked for that. He didn't seem disoriented exactly...

"Sleep here, at my apartment. Which is where we are right now." Maybe he hadn't understood the concept yet? He raised his fingers and scratched his still wet hair, looking around.

Then it dawned on me. "You can sleep in my bed... which is through the door behind you."

He turned slowly, as if the action took a lot of effort. Perhaps he was exhausted. Slowly walking through the door he turned back and quickly walked back out. "Your covers are everywhere!" I didn't understand why he'd be panicked about something like that, and he truly was. Eyes widened, as if he was scared of the idea of messy covers.

Maybe he was more screwed up than I had gathered, or was this something his parents had instilled in him as a child?

"Sorry, I left them like that before I went out for a walk, it must be a mess." And I suppose to some it would be a mess, a few blankets messed, the sheets crumpled. I realized must have been moving around in my sleep, before I'd left for the walk.

I set upon fixing them, surprised when Malfoy came to help. He was even more pristine at making the sheets than I was. When we finished, I went to my closet and transfigured a pair of my pajamas bigger so he'd have something to sleep in, as his clothes were still drying. Walking out of the room to give him some privacy to get changed and into bed, I went to check the locks and wards before going to sleep. When I returned to check on him as well, I found him laying neatly above all of the blankets his arms folded on his stomach.

Odd behaviour, I suppose. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. He might have sensed me there for he spoke up, his voice a little broken. "I'm sorry, I keep ruining your covers."

"What do you mean?"

"They're _wrinkled!" _ Either he was deranged or he really did have a concussion and I should look at that. In either case, I supposed it was best for me to just go along with the flow.

"I like them that way. And normally, I sleep under them. Would you like to try that?" He looked scared, and looked at me as if _I _were the crazy one.

"How will you be able to run away if you're trapped under covers?" the question seemed to be more for himself than for me, but I decided to answer him anyways.

"You'll learn."

I held the covers up for him, and as he brushed past my fingers I was glad I had convinced him to crawl into my bed, for he was still freezing cold. Tucking him in, I brought another blanket and put that over him too. As I was walking to the door to go to sleep myself on the couch, I heard a strangled moan. Turning around I found him staring at me, his face contorted in fear.

"Don't leave me under here."

I stood there, my body frozen under a sort of odd shock. I remembered all the years of bullying, of the war, of Dumbledore. I considered him, then, and he looked harmless. Hell, he looked needy and pathetic, and I could tell he had far too many issues. He was probably worse off than I was myself. Did he really deserve a second chance? He had to be passed his parent's idiotic ideology if he was willing to spend the night at _my _house, the supreme mudblood. Mudblood Number One. I was uncertain.

"Please," I heard him say, and that made my decision for me.

I found myself walking towards the bed, sliding under the covers and allowing him to come close, though I felt as if it were him allowing _me _to come close to _him. _It felt nice to finally have someone truly need me, even if it were just for a little while. I didn't feel lonely and it was a rare miracle that hadn't occurred since before the war.

He gingerly fell asleep, curled around me, his face inches from my neck. He was mumbling something, his eyes closed. I'm not sure what compelled me to, but I stroked his hair out of his face and continued, which must have soothed him, for he fell peacefully asleep after that. I didn't stop for the longest time, stroking his hair, face and neck until the sun was well into the sky.

It was a miracle, but I also didn't think. I didn't think about the consequences I'd have to face when I woke again, didn't think of the dreams that haunted my sleep, didn't think of what I was doing, or the consequences of stalking the pretty blonde boy. In fact, when I finally fell asleep, for the first time in a very long time, I didn't dream. Therefore I knew, even in my sleep, when I would eventually wake, I wouldn't regret.

Not one bit.

**a/n: This doesn't exactly mean that they're suddenly going to be together now. It's just honestly a consequence of being lonely and forced to take **_**someone's **_**company. **

**How did you like it? **


	8. Before a Confrontation

**A/N: Hey guys! So quick update (I hope) for you all. Thank you for all of you that reviewed, favourited and alerted. It gave me a thrill! Makes me want to continue writing.**

**This chapter may be dull because Draco explains his mental issues. I hope I've been detailed enough and don't sound too pathetic. But yay for Draco's point of view! Also, in the next chapters there will be more action instead of all of this explanation stuff you're getting here. Thanks for reading. **

**Chapter 8: Before a Confrontation**

**Hermione: **

I woke up to bright sunlight and extreme pounding and groaning. At first I thought I was being burned to death, then just realized that I'd forgotten to draw the curtains before I'd gone to bed. That didn't explain why my back was being pounded, though, and I was too groggy to want to care for a split second.

That is, of course, until the memories of last night came rushing back to me and I jumped out of bed in a defensive stance ready to kill the sodding Malfoy for attacking me. I'd given him a second chance!

I continued to rant such unflattering thoughts to myself in my head until my eyes finally decided to focus in the bright light of the day. Then I noticed that Malfoy wasn't attacking me at all, but he was thrashing about all tangled in the covers, trying to escape or fight off whoever it was in his nightmare. His face and neck were covered in gouges, most likely self inflicted, as was his bare chest. I instantly felt bad for jumping to conclusions but then decided I could deal with my unworthy mind later.

Jumping in to bed on top of him, I attempted to pin his flailing limbs, unsuccessfully for a while. Eventually, he managed to toss me off and I smacked my head smartly against my bedside table. Groaning at my stupidity, I picked up my wand and bound his arms above his head and his legs to the posts at the end of my bed. Yet still he thrashed and screeched, attempting to get out of his bounds. I was slightly shocked at his behaviour. Only slightly, though, I'd seen this kind of behaviour displayed in many of the prisoners that had been released from the dungeons of many of the Death Eaters homes. Could it be that...?

But I couldn't finish the thought, it seemed _preposterous! _Why would they torture one of their own? At least, this is what I was telling myself to quell the panicky thoughts that had started to flood my brain. Instead of focusing, however, I decided I should really get about waking him up and heal what he'd done to himself.

I straddled him once more, shaking him gently, calling his name, but to no avail. He seemed absolutely trapped within his own mind. Eventually, I decided I would either have to settle with splashing him with cold water or wake him with magic. Since I didn't want to be too cruel, exactly... for _obvious _reasons, I supposed magic would have to do. For now.

"Enervate."

His eyes fluttered open, dilated bright silver orbs lined with darker grey, pink flushed cheeks... I came to the conclusion that Malfoy was perhaps the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. Slowly, confusion also spread along his well shaped features but more that that, I found that he was finally showing signs of being _lucid. _The lost, uncaring, unemotional look was gone. Perhaps he would be someone I could actually recognize! But in that case... perhaps sitting on him wouldn't be the best way to commence a conversation.

"Gr-anger?" He managed to cough my name out. That was relieving. With his behaviour, I'd began to think he'd forgotten my name. I got up to retrieve him a glass of water from the jug on my side table only to find that his struggles had tossed it over to the floor and smashed it.

Sighing, I cleaned the mess with a swish of my wand, and refilled the glass with a quick spell. "Here, this should help."

He looked at me curiously but accepted it without question and sipped at it, perhaps to test if I'd poisoned it first. When he was satisfied, he gulped it down, much like the night before. When he finished I offered him another but he just shook his head and stared at everything but me.

"What...are you doing here?"

That was an odd question to ask, didn't he remember anything from last night?

"This is my apartment, Malfoy, I live here." I noticed he didn't cringe this time, when I called him by his family name. That was odd... he was the most interesting thing that had happened to me in a while. I supposed I could take advantage of the situation. "Don't you remember?"

He just shook his head, again. "What am _I _doing here then?" As if finding himself in an ex-war hero/ school rival's home wasn't something that happened every day. Oh alright, I guess it isn't something that happens every day.

"I found you last night in an abandoned park freezing to death and injured," I offered, trying to see a spark of memory flash behind his eyes. All I found there was wary confusion.

"Why did you help me? Why did you bring me here? What are you doing in New York?" It seemed as if he had a million questions he wanted to ask but was purposely being patient.

"I'm not about to leave a helpless person to freeze in that weather when they're injured, even if it's you, Malfoy. I brought you here because you weren't sure you had any dittany at home. As it is, I didn't think you knew where to go. I thought you had a concussion but maybe it was just shock. You were acting really odd last night, you know... so I didn't think I ought to just let you go home. In case something else happened," I paused for a breath and noticed he was a little stunned. Was I speaking too fast? His mouth was slightly opened and I decided just then that I adored that look on him. Seeing my past tormentor confused was rather amazingly pleasant.

"And what are you doing here?" he finally managed to say.

"I told you I live here-" but he cut me off.

"In New York. What are you doing in New York, Granger?" he asked, apprehensively.

"I got a job at the American Ministry, actually," I said, attempted to look proud of the fact that this was actually the case. "What about you, what are you doing here? What do you do?"

"I live here," he spoke with a hint of his old smirk and I could help giggle back. It was relieving to finally have something_ real _from my past life. Not just a reminder of the things I'd left behind. "Listen, I'm sorry I put you through the trouble...I'll just be-"

But this time I cut him off. "Nonsense. Stay for breakfast, I'll put something on the stove, yeah?"

Before he could contest I ran out of the room saying he could find his clothes folded in the basket in the room on the other side of the hall. Smiling to myself, I took out pancake mix and realized for the first time in a long time I didn't feel bad about forcing my company on someone. It looked like he actually _needed _it.

**Draco: **

My mind registered several things when I regained consciousness from the deepest most restful sleep I'd managed to gather in Merlin knows how many years, but most likely never.

First, my face and neck were stinging, and I was very, very sore. Second, my mind was clearer than it had been in years. Third, bright light was flooding my room and fourth, someone very soft and definitely feminine was atop me, straddling me.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized not only was I _not _in my room, but the very feminine lithe thing that had been atop me was none other than the very famous Hermione Granger, who should have hated my guts as far as I was aware.

Our conversation passed by too quickly for my liking, I was not able to grasp it, understand it. Before I knew it, she was walking lithely out the room telling me where I could find my clothes. What had I gotten myself into, I wondered?

Walking towards the place Granger had indicated for me to go, I took what appeared to be my clothing without question and donned it. I had learned very quickly that once I rose from these mental lapses, it was best not to ask questions, or people got panicky, concerned... always talked about the damn medi-ward for the mentally unstable.

_Go visit a goddamn shrink yourself, buddy. _

I found myself walking into what must have been Granger's bathroom, finding myself slightly relaxing while I took in the surroundings. If one had asked, I wouldn't have been able to answer why seeing her clothes discarded in the corner calmed me, or her towel hanging from a hook on the back of the door... but I revelled in it, as calmness wasn't something that came naturally to me in this state.

_This state? Brilliant Draco, just talk like a complete nutter. _

Sighing to myself I deigned it for the best that I ignore my mind. Pressing my forehead to either side of the sink, I leaned myself forward and gazed upon my reflection, engaging in the breathing exercises the shrink had given me when I _had _taken the time to visit one all those years after the war... after the nightmares and thoughts had started to plague me...

Shuddering, I focused on my reflection decided I really did not recognize who it was that had the audacity to stare so boldly back at me.

After a minute I realized I was having a staring competition with myself. Shaking my head at the foolishness, I splashed cool water on myself, hoping to wake up. Hopefully ascertaining that this was a real lucid moment and not just another dream.

It had taken a while to get accustomed to my...current state. The shrinks that my mother had rushed me to had all agreed that it was a mental defence against everything I'd seen and partaken in during the war. I remember something along the lines of _a coping mechanism, _and my mother's tears for her only child that had gone absolutely loony.

The shrinks had convinced her that moving to a different place would help me. I agreed with it simply to be rid of them. I pretended to be healed, to be normal, but once out of sight it ceased to matter if I were normal, sane, and lucid or not. I could engage my mental defences and protect myself from the nightmares, from the stares... from myself, maybe. So I would regress into a state where nothing could harm me. Perhaps weeks at a time, sometimes months and emerged partially cleansed. Certainly strong enough to hold onto a few days with my full mental capacities running.

It worked fantastically, at first. I would allow myself to become mindless, emotionless, release the insanity then, before I returned back to a more lucid, functioning state. That is, until my mother passed away. After that, I had no one to pretend for anymore. My lucid states, as far as I'm aware, began to come farther and fewer in between... I must have mentally begun to dread them.

Now, however, I was fully accustomed and accepting of my lifestyle, so long as I did not involve anyone in it. Though somehow, I might have roped Granger in with me. I was sincerely hoping that this was not the case when I heard her knock softly on the door.

"Are you going to be long? I've breakfast set up," she called out to me. She seemed timid. Had I scared her?

Already feeling more grounded, I opened the door and attempted a smile but it must have turned out to look more like a grimace. I am not in the habit of smiling these days... certainly not. Clearing my throat at the awkwardness, I replied, "That would be lovely, thank you."

She nodded, perhaps a bit startled at my response, though I couldn't figure out why, she led the way to her table, and offered me a seat while she took the one across from me. "Help yourself," she offered.

Breakfast was silent. Glancing at the clock and seeing it was two in the afternoon, I realized it was more like lunch. "What is the date?"

"November 30th," she replied without looking up from her plate and the paper that she was skimming rather quickly through. When she glanced up, I quickly averted my eyes. There was an awkward moment of silence that was broken thankfully by a tap at her window.

She jumped up quickly and ran to the window to let the rather ordinary barn owl in. Taking the letter and giving it a piece of bacon before it left with a swish, she opened the letter and ran her eyes over it, a slow frown beginning to appear on her face. I instantly decided I did not like that look upon her at all.

However, with the arrival of the letter, I had the opportunity to appraise her form. She was rather slight, clad in only boy shorts and a tank top, her hair much shorter and well kept than from our school days. She had turned into a graceful thing of sorts...

I stopped myself from thinking, my face turning red and quickly returned to finishing everything on my plate. Perhaps being completely unaware of one's surroundings was a good way to be!

When she came to sit at the table again to continue with her meal, she proclaimed, "Well! I've no plans for today anymore, seeing as I was cancelled on. So we have plenty of time to talk about what's happened with you and why you're walking around New York bleeding like a pig."

I looked up at her expectant face with horror. Perhaps I could skive this off saying I had to work, or had other matters to attend to... but the expression on her face told me that I would not be getting out of anything today.

Oh my.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! I'd love to hear from all of you. **


	9. Holidays and Attachment Part 1

**A/N: I am SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU ALL! I refuse to update if I get no reviews. All I'm asking for is ONE review, at the very least! I know some of you are reading, so please. Please for my sanity's sake review or I don't think I'll bother updating anymore. If anyone cares about me updating at all that is.**

**Hermione comes back in this chapter, and we have Christmas. I didn't want to make it too long, so I capped it off there. I'm writing the next chapter as we speak, and that'll centre around new years. **

**WARNING: DARK MATERIAL. I had to say it, it's hinted at, so don't read if you're not up for it. This story is rated M though... so you shouldn't be reading if you're not for that kind of thing anyways. **

**Chapter 9: Holidays and Attachment (Part 1)**

_**Draco: Last Week of November **_

It hadn't been easy, not at all. I had thought of bolting about a million times while I handled the situation, with grace obviously, since a Malfoy will never do anything without grace. But I stuck it through, more for my sake than hers. I suppose I am just lonely and that is all.

Throughout the week, I had discussed with her my entire issue. In fact, I think I had told her every detail that had happened to me from the start of the war to the finish and I had never felt so unburdened in my entire life. I almost felt guilty, pushing everything onto her shoulders, but for once I felt happy that there was someone who pitied me and everything that I had gone through.

"_It wasn't easy, it never was. When Dumbledore offered me sanctuary that night in the astronomy tower, you have absolutely no idea how much I wanted to take it... but the death eaters came in before I could do anything about it. I haven't regretted anything more, but he...The Dark Lord, he..." _

I told her things that I had not even disclosed to my shrinks all those years back. Perhaps if I had, they wouldn't have sent me away so quickly. Then again, perhaps it was for the best that I contained everything within myself.

She learned things about me that I was too afraid to disclose to anyone else. Things that I did not want to live with by myself anymore. And she accommodated me for which I was grateful. She did what she could to make me a part of her little space she had created for herself in her small apartment. She attempted to make sure that my dark, dark secrets could stay here too, _comfortably. _I began to see her in a whole new light.

"_I remember that day when you and your friends were caught and dragged in to my family's manor... well, by that point; it wasn't much of a home. I refused to disclose who you were... I felt it was my duty to protect him, Potter, that is. But I was punished so poorly for it after..." I could hardly continue, choking at the memory of it, but she urged me on. "They locked me for days on end, like a prisoner, the lights always kept to full brightness so that I was always constantly blinded... and sent them in, all the death eaters, one by one, and they would- they would-" _

I remember crying, softly, choking on my words. This I had not done in so long, bleakness being my choice of comfort. It felt oddly relieving, crying, though I had been raised to believe that there was no dignity in making such a fool of oneself, in front of a _lady _as well! But she did not scoff, but instead held me to her neck and I recall falling asleep after she charmed her ceilings higher, her walls apart and I remember feeling relieved at the spaciousness, the claustrophobic feeling slowly receding.

I remember realizing that my assumptions of her softness were correct, but I had no memory of making such an assumption to begin with.

For the years to come, I would realize that this was the most efficient way to fall asleep. Sheer darkness enveloping the both of us, her wrapped comfortably around me, letting me revel in her softness, and her wonderful scent wafting over enticingly into my senses. I would realize that her neck was the most comforting place for my head to rest against, and that her presence would keep the bad dreams at bay. It was a shock to my system, one I was not about to acknowledge.

"_I would hide every night, after they released me, under my bed, and recount everything so that I should not forget all that I had gone through. I would let myself come undone there, tear at my conscience, my sanity... and when day would come, I would shut all my thoughts and capabilities away and pretend as if I were perfect, that I had not failed. I would act for my family's sake so that they would not do to my mother, what they did to me... but that did not carry out...as I had expected..."_

When she had come to grips with the fact that I was damaged, she cleaned out everything under her bed without another word, and despite my weak protests that she need not change anything on _my _account.

That week we spent many hours under her bed, and I poured my heart out to her, after which she shared hers with me. I had never felt so close to another human being since my mother. I had never thought I would ever want to spend a single moment like this, in a space that had become sacred to me, with a girl that I had loathed.

I would come to learn that she would become my pillar, one that I had never had before. To think, I had ridiculed this girl, and those like her, for so many years of my life, over something as silly as _blood! _

However, I hadn't exactly believed in my father's twisted ideas for quite some time. They had hardly made sense to me, even before the war had started. I had simply been far too much of a coward to address the situation I had found myself in.

For now, I was grateful for the girl that had decided to come rescue me from all of the evils my father had allowed to become reality. Despite my shock, I lay there with her, in her home, her hand clasped tightly in mine.

Yes, I was consciously attaching myself unconditionally to Hermione Jean Granger.

_**Hermione: **_

As odd as it sounds, I had begun to cohabitate with Draco Malfoy, who used to be "the Slytherin Prince", back in the day. But as I'd soon come to realize, he was absolutely nothing like he was back in the day! I couldn't have been more pleased with this development, honestly. I finally have someone here, in New York, who treats me like the intelligent human being that I am.

And not just some other stupid bimbo they want to sleep with.

I suppose it's only fair to elaborate these developments. After all, no one can ever make sense of anything I say if it's out of context.

The morning after I'd found and healed Draco (yes, I call him Draco now apparently, since that's his name, and not Malfoy, like I used to and was extremely comfortable with), I received a letter from Kevin Greene, my co-worker that I had a lousy crush on because I was lonely. Yes, the guy who took me to a place to talk about fashion.

_Hermione, _

_I'm sorry I can't make it tonight, I hope you don't mind? I have urgent business to attend to. Lunch on Monday, instead? _

_Thanks for understanding!_

_Kevin. _

At the time, of course, I took it as a convenient blessing so that I could deal with Draco (Malfoy. Did I mention he's a MALFOY? I'm spending all my time with a fucking MALFOY!). And deal with him did I! We started what turned out to be a weeklong spouting of madness. He told me things I didn't want to believe.

I don't think I should even think about them they're that horrid. I told him things I didn't want to remember, and I think he doesn't think about it much either. We just accept each other, and I'm glad to leave it at that and take it in stride.

It was a lot to juggle with at first, listening to him, trying to understand, trying to open myself up for him to see, telling him things I probably haven't told anyone before. But on top of that, finding the will to leave him alone in my apartment while I went to work and battled the rest of the world. It was hard, at first. It was a hell of a week, as I remember it. I don't think either of us slept a wink out of our own accord.

Three things stand out embellished in my memory of that week. They are as follows:

Draco Malfoy is a blessing in disguise, and I couldn't have been smarter in being a curious batty stalker and saving his life. (Exaggeration accounted for).

We share a lot of the same fears, likes and dislikes. For example, we can't stand mirrors. I only did have the one in the toilet, just to be sure that I looked acceptable for work. We both love books, and music and an unprecedented appetite for liquorice, cinnamon hearts and ice cream. We both can't stand the idea of returning to what we were living before.

Kevin Greene is a slimy bastard.

It's an odd list to have, so I suppose I ought to be a little bit more explanatory. Don't worry one bit, I was getting to it. I shall explain myself! Though not in order, I sincerely hope you don't mind.

As it so happens, Kevin Greene _is _a slimy bastard.

When Monday arrived to signal the start of another dreaded work week, I found myself curled around Draco, practically sleeping against him in his lap. We had probably fallen asleep on the couch after a long, long talk the night before, and I noticed he was rather beautiful as he slept.

But that revelation was soon overshadowed by the fact that my exciting weekend was over and that I now had to return to work. My unfortunate glance at the clock told me I was going to be late, as well. Again. Did I say again? I'm not normally late, but who cares with a job that useless and boring?

I woke up the sleeping beauty and told him I had work, which he acknowledged and said he was leaving and that he was really sorry for imposing this long. I don't know what overcame me. Instead of saying, yeah you smarmy bastard, you've been here since Saturday night, I told him to stay, to help himself to food because I was running a tad bit late.

I suppose I'm just a lonely attention absorbing idiot.

So, I went to work, being extremely thankful that Draco had not brought a wand with him. (He despises magic, which is something I certainly have to work on helping him move around, because that's essentially what he has left, as far as I'm concerned. But he tells me he's not ready to have anything to do with it). I suppose you might think I'm a bit of a control freak, and worry needlessly. But we were talking about Draco Malfoy. (MALFOY! _The _Malfoy. If you haven't grasped that yet, I mean, I've said it quite a few times... shocked? I am!)

Kevin was his adoring self during lunch, treating me like arm candy the entire time, which I so despise. It was the usual Kevin behaviour, of course, that is, until he was approached by a pretty blonde in a department I'd never heard of.

"Hi, baby, thanks for last night, when can we do it again?" She practically _cooed _at him!

"Uh, sure, no problem... you know Hermione, right? We work in the same department." He blabbered on, I think, mostly so she wouldn't say much more to him. He was completely out of his element. This was something I should have picked up immediately if I hadn't been so caught up with Draco fucking Malfoy.

After that awkward conversation was up, he immediately turned to me and said, "I'm so sorry, that was nothing honestly... Mallory just needed help moving into her new apartment and I was just, you know... helping."

An explanation which I just absently accepted because my mind was so clouded with... thoughts you've probably caught onto by now. No wonder the man thinks I'm dimwitted! I suppose I deserve it now, upon reflection.

"So how's about we go out on Friday? I promise I won't ditch this time," he said through his signature grin. The bastard. I used to think it was cute. Remembering it now just makes me want to beat myself up.

I was still distracted, as you can imagine, so I just smiled politely and nodded. Then almost hit myself over the head for saying yes because I realized I didn't feel like putting up with this idiot anymore.

The week passed in a daze, and it was probably the most effortless work week I'd ever had in all my career working at any ministry at all. This was most likely due to the fact that my mind was occupied elsewhere. That, or everyone else noticed that my mind was occupied elsewhere and didn't bother me with unnecessary nonsense. I'm grateful for either or.

What got me through it was knowing that someone was in my apartment, waiting for me to come home and actually properly _caring _that I had a shitty day at a job that I hated.

The evenings I spent with the blonde man also explain the second point on my list. I learned so much about him that I'm shocked I even remember all of it. It was all a blur, like a very good novel whose pages just magically turn all by itself and I'm just powerless to stop it.

Friday, unfortunately came, and I found myself dreading telling Draco that I had to go out for the evening. I'd become attached to him in so short a time, and again, powerless to stop it.

"I have to go see a friend, tonight, because I promised, but don't worry! I won't take long, and I'll be home early so-", he cut me off, which was a good thing, seeing as I have this slight tendency to ramble.

"That is perfectly alright," he said in his completely cultured, quiet tone, where as I was already on the brink of squeaky panic.

"What?"

"I think I can manage on my own for a night. Or go back...er...home, if you wish for me to leave, while you're gone," he seemed a bit pained at that thought. I just shook my head. I'd already learned by this point that he hated that house and everything in it. Minus the elf, who had already come looking for him, apparently.

He had "addressed the issue" early one morning while I had been asleep.

He watched me prepare myself, even helped me pick out something appropriate for the weather, and I felt like we were friends, almost. That is, until he figured out the "friend" I was seeing was a male. Then he shut down and I can't quite understand to this day why I felt so immensely guilty for making him feel that awkward.

He barely offered a bye before I left, and it had me in awful worried jitters all night. It would have been an awful night without the damper. As I remember it, it was painfully awkward, insanely boring and I'm quite sure my brain had turned to mush before the main course had even been brought out.

He'd taken me to some sushi bar that had received very good reviews in some news tabloid or another. I, myself, hate fish, much less _raw fish. _Paired with him trying to treat me as if I were his personal girl to drape himself over...and the silly conversation where he treated me as if I were the stupidest girl on the _planet! _I suppose, I snapped somewhere in the middle. Good looks don't excuse such behaviour.

"I'd like to go home now, Kevin, if you don't mind terribly..." It wasn't even 8:30. He just smirked. Later I understood that he had thought I wanted to sleep with him, the pompous arse.

When we reached my flat, I quickly said goodbye and unlocked the door. I thought I'd made it clear that I just wanted to get away when-

"Aren't you going to invite me inside, babe?" I turned to find him leaning far too close to me for comfort. Sighing, which I'm sure he mistook for another sexual sign, I shook my head.

"I'm actually really tired, I'm going to head in for the night-" When he leaned forward, _pinned me, _and shoved his lips against mine. And moaned.

The disgusting fucker.

"Love it when you girls play hard to get, it's such a turn on, baby."

"Get _off me! _Now!"

The struggle that issued was horrific, in which he continued to believe that I was "playing hard to get" and got his gritty hands in enough places that I still haven't been able to wash the memory off yet.

I praise the heavens and point to the first point of my list, when I tell you that I was so glad for the door to be wrenched open and find a sort of shocked looking Draco standing there with a bowl of something in his hand.

Said bowl was smashed on the bastards head as he was pulled off me and slammed against the wall.

"Leave and if you have any sense that that large head of yours, you will not come back. Do you understand?" I'm being completely honest when I say I've never seen a Malfoy look this livid. I could literally feel cold fury rolling off of him in waves.

Kevin felt it too, apparently, but like all men, he was stupid enough to put on a brave front. "Who the fuck are you to tell me to what to do?"

Crossing his arms across his chest he stared Kevin down. Even though he must have only had an inch on the now worried mess, it seemed as if he _towered _over him. "Sebastian Dominique and this is my girlfriend you were molesting."

To say I was shocked was an understatement. For two reasons, that is. Firstly, Sebastian Dominique just _happens _to be the most influential entrepreneur in the entirety of the United States Wizarding _and _Muggle populations. He was also a very influential writer. I had all of his books.

Secondly, obviously, he called me his girlfriend. _Girlfriend? _I just stood there with my mouth open with my mind reeling. Kevin wasn't too far off, either. He stammered a lot of apologies before practically running to the stairs.

I barely noticed Draco pulling be gently into my apartment, didn't pay any attention to him taking my coat off and ushering me into a seat. All that I could concentrate on was _"Sebastian Dominique and this is my girlfriend you were molesting!" _

Before I could say anything, my stomach rumbled and spoke for me.

He chuckled. "Hungry? I made pasta."

And so, we didn't speak, but we ate Italian food and watched old films on the telly for the rest of the night.

_Girlfriend? _

Since that day, Draco practically lives with me, but leaves randomly once in a while so that he can write without me disturbing him, though he gives the opposite excuse. He's become my friend, closer than I can imagine. In my head, he's slowly replacing the empty hole that Harry and Ron used to fill before things fell to shit.

We don't talk about where things are going, or how things have been between us. We just go with it. It's as if it's a taboo subject, but at the moment, I can't find myself minding.

There are wordless agreements between us. Such as, we both go to my bed together and since I allow him to do so, he pays for rent. He cooks every Tuesday and Thursday and we watch films on Friday, without fail.

This was something I could definitely get used to.

_**Draco: December 25**__**th**___

This year, as every year that circumstance has allowed, was a quiet Christmas. In the way of gifts, I received baked goods and a jumper from my elf, a bottle of wine from my employees and a stack of books from Hermione.

I myself offered her a trinket in gratitude for all her accommodation and her acceptance of all my flaws. As well as for not mentioning that I had an alias in this country. When I had moved here, my mother had deemed it proper for me to busy myself, but being a Malfoy had been an undesirable option at the moment.

Hiding my identity was exactly what I had needed. With spare time and memories to run from, I invested the Malfoy fortune and spent my time doing what I do best. Make believe.

At first, it was an efficient method of distracting myself from the memories, and slipping into insanity, for my mother's sake. Eventually, I became filthy rich. Now, I write novels for pleasure, and as a method to vent when I am sane. I have been sane here, with Hermione, the longest I have been since my mother's death.

And now I write, since business runs itself, as I have designed it to.

The diamond bracelet was also an apology for allowing the news to spread in the ministry that Hermione is my girlfriend. For all intents and purposes she is, but it is something that we do not acknowledge, even if I practically live with her.

I understood that the promotion she received was due to my fame, and perhaps so that I would be charitable to the ministry. I understood that that was not something that she wanted from her career. She did not want to be a noticeable figure, as she was in London. She does not want to make her career off of fame, but instead hard work.

This is a quality that I can admire, having gone through such a phase myself. Things are not truly yours if they are not created through your hard earning labour.

I cannot say I regret the action if it keeps filthy men away from her. I do not think my mind could take another violation as that one. But she is as sweet as ever.

We cooked and baked during the day, whilst drinking eggnog and listening to tunes our parents might have listened to on the radio. It was peaceful. I felt as if all was almost right in the world, and nothing should exist outside of these four walls.

I could spend the rest of my life here, just like this, content forever.

Spying the gold and diamond adorned on her wrist, I found that I was pleased she had accepted it despite making a fuss and rambling, which she does to a fault. I found that I could be happy if I could mark her as mine, even if in a small way.

The day passed uneventfully, thank goodness it was so peaceful. I would like to believe that the two of us deserve this peace and perhaps it can be long lasting, if my luck has not run out as of yet. I would like to believe that Hermione would wish to stay this way with me. I cannot be sure if she is like this simply because she is lonely or if I am something desirable to have.

The honest truth be spoken, I am broke, despite the front I imagine myself to put up, however ineffectively. This is all I have, and I hope and pray that this news she never hear, for I would not be able to bear it if I lost this as well.

I fear returning to the helplessness and the empty bliss of madness. That was not a life that I had envisioned for myself. Disorientation is a slow poison.

Yet I tell myself that if I could just have this one peaceful memory, that it could last me forever and wherever I went despite anything that happens. Even if this lasts or not. But I find that I am just lying to myself when I think these things.

For now, however, I am content with my Hermione Granger.

**A/N: Happy holidays, you lot. I love you, even if you don't review. **

**(PS: More Hermione? Or More Draco? ) **


	10. Holidays and Attachment Part 2

A/n: I'm quite proud of this chapter! Please read and review.

This chapter is dedicated to: BeaMax, Sayuri1990, Plagued, -jalice-carter and Dani who reviewed chapter seven but I forgot to mention. THANK YOU, you lot are my favourite people in this world right now. Also thank you to everyone who favourited and alerted.

Happy Holidays. I think I said this chapter was supposed to be new years, but it was getting too long so I had to cut it in half. I will update again soon

**Chapter 10: Holidays and Attachment (Part 2) **

**Hermione: December 26****th**

Christmas came and Christmas went, and I barely realized it. Before, when I first moved to New York, I had a huge issue with making time go by and wanting to live. Now, ever since Draco has come into my life I have the ever present issue of making time slow down for me. It just flies by these days, as I have so much to occupy me.

It's like Hogwarts all over again.

Except unlike in the Hogwarts' years, Draco Malfoy is a permanent _positive _presence in my life. I don't think I've been _this _at peace at myself since the war ended. We're cohesive in every sense of the word. You'd think I'd call him my boyfriend in such a short amount of time, but I think the both of us are too afraid to venture in said territory in any of our discussions. Him more so than I, obviously. I would love to know where we stand, but I suppose in the grander scheme of things, it hardly matters.

But it matters a lot to me.

For Christmas, he randomly produced a gorgeous velvet box in which there lay a beautiful, gorgeous, _stunning, _diamond bracelet encased in twelve karat gold. I almost fainted with shock. The only jewellery I'd ever received from any of my boyfriends, relatives or anyone for that matter was...

Well nothing like this of course. I was stunned, to say the least and did not want to accept it, because come on. We've only spent about a month together. It made me feel self conscious of my own gift. I'd only bought him books for god's sake!

/

"_Oh Merlin, Draco... you really didn't have to, you know... I can't accept something like that, it must cost a fortune and-"he, like always, cut me off. _

"_You're going to take it, whether you like it or not. We both know you can't out argue me. Besides, you let me live in your flat," he smirked, as if this were some sort of come back to be proud of. _

"_You pay the rent, you ferret!" _

"_Don't call the man who pays your rent a ferret. It's unseemly." _

"_You're unseemly!"_

_But he won me out eventually. As he had predicted. But in all honesty, I let him win. Who really wants to say no to a diamond fucking bracelet anyways?_

_/_

But now Christmas is over and the year is almost out. Work is incessantly boring, especially after the promotion I received because everyone thinks I'm Sebastian Dominique's girlfriend. Well, I suppose for all intents and purposes I _am _Sebastian Dominique's girlfriend, he's just too afraid to talk about it with me. The said girlfriend. How bloody lovely that predicament is.

Everyone at work is most likely too afraid to be even the slightest rude to me. That, or they stick to me like glue and hope they can get with the "in crowd" or whatever else they're calling popularity these days. It's absolutely horrendous.

The only brilliant person left at work is, of course, Zara. I practically leaned on her for support, and people now know her to be "that Hermione Granger's best friend". So people flock her now too. I personally don't think she minds it as much as I do.

/

"_Hermione, you really need to see the bright side of things," she said to me during one of our lunch breaks. I had my head buried in my arms, mourning the days where I was invisible to the general public. _

"_And what might that be, you attention seeker?"_

"_My ex husband sent me flowers, I got a raise, I can afford child care... oh and I bought new robes. Thanks to the raise. I love you, lots, did I ever mention that?" She giggled at my expression when I raised my head. _

"_Glad everything's working out for you." _

_Her response was to pat my head and offer me a sip of her lunchtime smoothie, which, being the best friend that I am, I ran off with._

_/_

Despite everything, I was happy for Zara. If someone could benefit from my new found fame, it ought to be her. She really deserved the break. For Christmas she took her family to the Bahamas for an extended vacation that would last past new years, so I hadn't seen her for a while. I myself wanted to take a vacation, back home, if a certain someone would comply with me.

I found Draco sprawled luxuriously on my bed reading one of the books I'd gotten him for Christmas. Putting on my sweetest smile, I greeted him.

"Draco?" I lulled out to him.

He glanced up and when he caught my smile his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Drat... he was already onto me! "Yes...?"

"I was thinking..."

"Well, that can never be good," he laughed and made a dash for it when I tried to come smack him for his cheek. "Stop trying so hard, you fluffy cat, I'm too fast for you!"

Sighing, I crossed my arms over my chest and walked back out sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting for the question I already knew would come. I saw him lay back down on my bed in his previous position, and opening his book to the page he had marked down. I already knew he'd be pretending to read for a minute, just because he was infuriating like that.

"So, what were you thinking?" he called from the bedroom.

I grabbed an apple from the bowl placed onto the counter next to me. Taking a bite, and chewing slowly, knowing that he could hear me eating; I waited for the second prompt.

"Well?"

I grinned. Point one for Hermione. Folding my legs underneath me, I waited another few seconds just to get back at him for calling me a fluffy cat. "Well...I was thinking that we could go on a vacation. You know, for the New Year. I've wanted to take some time off work and I thought maybe you'd like to go. As in with me."

By this point, curiosity had gotten the better of him and he stopped pretending to read to come venture out to where I was sitting. He walked up to me, placing a hand on either side of me on the counter. "Where would we go?"

"Hmm..." I absently toyed with a strand of my hair while munching on the apple.

"Come on, out with it. I know you've already given it a lot of thought," he seemed intrigued, and I wasn't sure why. Maybe he really did want to go on a vacation. I almost felt bad for suggesting going home at this point.

"_Well," _I began, offering him a bite of my apple which he liberally finished off for me, "I was thinking we could go home. To London...and visit family." I knew I had scrunched my face up in fear of his response, so I was shocked when he gently stroked my cheek. I peeked out from under one lid and he was smirking. I honestly did not understand.

"You're rather sly, aren't you," he only laughed when I shook my head. He copied my earlier gesture and resumed playing with that errant strand of hair for me, curling it around his finger. "Well, you could go. I hope you don't think I'm stopping you. Have fun." And with that said, he turned around, walked right back into my bedroom and flopped down on my bed, pretending to read.

Oh.

So that's how he was going to play it, eh?

"Draco Malfoy, you get back here! You know that's not the point. I want you to come with me!" I indignantly flopped off of the counter, which he laughed at, viewing me from his place on the bed. I leaned against the door, staring at him. "I'd really like it if you came, you know."

"You know why I don't ever want to go back."

"It's unhealthy, not facing your fears."

"You're criminal! Asking something like that of me!" I flushed. He'd never raised his voice with me up to this day. I found I kind of liked it.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but-"

"I'm not sorry. I want you to go. Please? At least consider it?" I pouted, hoping it would raise some kind of emotion in him and allow him to be guilt tripped into coming with me.

"No."

Well. I guess that plan didn't work out so well.

**December 27****th**

He was sitting there, watching the telly when I came home from work. He had made dinner today, since I had come home a little late due to a meeting that just _couldn't _wait until tomorrow.

"Dinner's on the stove, I just ate myself." It seemed he was behaving normally. I supposed I could risk my luck.

"Okay. Thank you..." He just nodded. I waited a minute, as I removed my coat and hung it in the closet. Braving myself, I sped through the question. "Have you thought about my proposition?" I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers.

"Hmm?" I opened my eyes and found he wasn't even staring at me, far too engrossed with whatever he was watching. I sighed, coming to sit on the arm of the couch he was leaning against.

"It would really mean a lot to me if you came home with me," I put a finger on his lips to make sure he wouldn't interrupt me. "Please? It would make me really happy. I've already bought the tickets."

He just shook his head. I could feel my expression falter, but I attempted vainly to compose myself. I dragged myself over to the stove, and filled the bowl unseeingly. I'm not sure why I felt the strongest urge to cry... it was absolutely insane. Feeling disgusted with myself I told myself that I was stronger than _this. I am not dependant on some man. Step up your game Hermione-_

"Why can't you just accept the fact that I don't want to go? I don't even _have _family there-"

"You have me." He faltered at that, gaping and then closing his mouth. Alternating between the two states as he came up with an appropriate response.

"I have you here, too," he muttered finally.

I just rolled my eyes. "It's fine. I won't say I'm not disappointed, but you can stay here if you'd like. I'll do the groceries so you won't starve, before I leave tomorrow." He had this thing about not being seen in stores. Shaking my head, I turned back to my food, ignoring him completely.

I could practically _feel _his frustration with me and himself all the way from the other side of the room. It gave me a certain sense of satisfaction, knowing that he had the ability to have a conflicted mind, taking things I wanted into account. I knew he was staring daggers at me.

He made some sort of noise, a growl perhaps, in the back of his throat and before I could turn make sense of what was going on, he was at the door shucking his coat and hat on, that I made him wear whenever he did go out.

"Fine, I'll go with you on your bloody _vacation, _but the goddamn elf is coming with me!"

And with that, he was gone, and he made sure to slam the door extra hard behind him, leaving me standing there with a huge grin plastered to my face.

/

It was well after midnight when I heard him come home and drag something heavy in behind him. He was swearing quietly to himself, which he rarely did in front of "a lady", unless he was really not in control of himself. Then I realized he probably thought I was asleep, since I was laying in bed in the dark.

I'd left the door to my bedroom open so I could see his silhouette reflected on the walls from the streetlights outside. When he walked in, I decided to continue to pretend being asleep, just because I didn't quite feel like ruining his mood any further than I probably had already.

I heard him undress, and find a pair of pajama bottoms to slip into. I knew, however, that he wouldn't find any, since I'd thrown them all in the wash just last night and hadn't had the time to fold them to put them back in their proper place. He sighed, when he realized this, and I assumed, crawled into bed as gently as he could so as not to wake me, in his boxers.

I knew he'd come close now, because that was how we'd always sleep. This is what we'd been doing _every _night. I would go to bed, pretend to be asleep and he would come in as quietly as possible. I would dread this moment, thinking that tonight would be the night he would choose not to curl around me, but he would always prove me wrong, and my heartbeat would slow down.

Eventually.

All these nights I think he knew that I'd always be awake until he came to bed. It was an irrational routine, but I couldn't help any of it. I wouldn't be able to fall asleep if I knew he was alone with his thoughts. I couldn't help the racing of my heart, each time, when I thought that _this _would be the night that I would be rejected. I'm sure he was aware of most of it. The wakefulness part at least.

When he lay next to me, this particular night, he broke the routine and I was shocked. My heart beat faster. I felt him lift my hair away and his lips softly press into my neck. I stopped myself from shivering, but only just.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "For being difficult."

He curled around me, stroking my neck gently with his fingers whilst pressing his lips to my racing pulse. This time I couldn't help the shiver that wracked through my body. "It's okay," I whispered back.

And that was how we both fell asleep and almost slept through the alarm I'd set so that we could leave bright and early for our flight to London.

**Draco: **

It was disastrous. A complete mistake. Why did I agree to this? _Big haired brunettes are not to be trusted._ Or maybe just Hermione Granger. I wouldn't want to discriminate at this point of my life.

We woke up at six in the morning, with the sun in its process of rising for the day. I can certainly assure that I do not enjoy rising with the sun, especially since I've started spending time with the demon in disguise.

I had recalled her saying that she had bought tickets, but I had no idea that she'd meant for us to take the muggle conventional way of getting around. I do mean airplanes, if there was any room for doubt. Having integrated myself in the muggle world, I certainly knew what an airplane is. It's just that, I'd never gone through the process of riding one. It was absolutely horrendous.

Why she just didn't register for a transnational portkey is far beyond my scope of understanding.

The day began with her charming my trunk to look like a muggle suitcase and refusing to shrink it down. Apparently it was not appropriate to go onto an airplane without luggage. Fancy that. Then she harassed me into taking a taxi to the airport, as if apparation had gone out of style. Malfoys do not do anything but apparate. Anyone with a brain should know this.

Sleepy as I was, I didn't complain too much about standing in line. But making me walk through security, as if I were some sort of commoner! And having a man _frisk _me! I was indignant. But the man only seemed to find me amusing, as did Hermione. She said I wasn't a "morning person". I assure you, anyone would behave that way under such circumstances!

Then, I'm not sure anyone will believe this, she made me board the unsightly metal contraption and told me I had nine hours to contemplate my behaviour. Nine hours! How in the world did muggles cope with this... inconvenience? Magic is clearly something I should not be afraid to employ if it means I don't have to go through such gross methods as these.

It is bad, I tell you. Even my elf said fuck it and left after the scandal at security. Well, Dobby did not exactly employ such language, but I do enjoy embellishing in my head. I, being the gentleman that I am, endured it for Hermione's sake, instead of asking the elf to save me.

The poor dear is deluded, after all. She thinks this is a reasonable way to travel. I suppose in the future I can convince her of otherwise.

Then came the food. I have listened to these muggles and their jokes about airplane food yet I hadn't understood that they had meant it _literally_. It came in disturbing packaging and had the oddest taste. Hermione had the good grace not to laugh at me. She did however say she was chuckling with me, that horrid witch. The lengths I go to her.

And only because she said she would be happy! Clearly she was "being happy" at my expense. Life has proven itself to be unfair time and time again. Though I suppose it is worth it, since she seems so light hearted. All I can think of that gets me through this is, "_she owes me_".

When the plane landed and we'd retrieved our luggage, which was not so easy to find due to its disfigurement, she hailed another taxi. I, however, managed to convince her apparation was the best means of transportation at this point.

It was the one clear high point of my day, because where we were going...well, it could mean death. Taking a deep breath, I took her hand and she spun on her foot. The unpleasant feeling of being squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste was still present even after we'd arrived at our destination, but I'd have gone back to that instead of what I was being faced with now. Gulping, I resigned myself to my fate, grabbed our trunks and walked a step or two behind her to my doom.

Yes, we had reached the burrow.

Sitting on the bed I had been provided with in the room that I would be sharing with one or more of the red headed freaks of nature, I tried everything to calm down. I took deep breaths, counted the floor boards, attempted to listen to the noises of the house (which were plentiful) but nothing decidedly worked.

It had been chaos so far, and it is safe to say that the rest of the Weasly clan was not so receptive of my presence. Only the little children did not seem to mind me so much. That, and perhaps the mother, Mrs. Weasly, I suppose I should call her.

The only thoughts that kept me going were that I could leave right after the New Year party and Hermione would come with me...and we would stay in the city, where no one had to know who I was. And no one would hate me, of course.

_Here, _however was a completely different story.

The moment Hermione had announced she'd brought a guest, the house was overjoyed, asking if she had snagged up a fiancé. An American fiancé. But the moment I stepped through the door, heaving our heavy bags, silence fell.

"What's he doing here?"

"Yeah, Hermione, you could've warned us!"

"Malfoy?"

"You mean to tell me you're _sleeping _with the ferret?"

"George! That's disgusting-"

"What? She brought home a Mal-"

"Enough!" And that had been Mrs. Weasly. "He is Hermione's guest, and so he is _our _guest and you lot shall _BEHAVE! _Now please, Ginny, George, come help set the table. Charlie, I think you can take the bags off them and take them up to their rooms. Lovely- welcome to our home, dear, if you'd like to wash up before dinner..." And so it had gone on.

Dinner had been a sordid affair. We had been cramped in a small room on a table that could barely support the food that had been jammed on it. I could tell they all were waiting for just a tiny little slip up so that they could brandish their wands and banish me from their home, but more importantly away from their precious Hermione.

Of course, not to be misunderstood, she _is _precious. She's just not _theirs _if my meaning is understood.

To her credit, she did attempt to stop all the evil glaring done by the ex. Ronald, as his mother calls him so dearly. I suppose to be honest; he is the only one that truly _hates _me. Perhaps partially for the taunting of the past, but mostly because I appeared with the girl he is so obviously in love with, still. Potter seemed perplexed at the most, and untrusting. Perhaps he believes I have ulterior motives. In their eyes, it must appear that way, but to Hermione, well, she knows everything there is to know about me. Well, mostly. The earless wonder just appeared to like making jokes at my expense.

It could have been much worse, I suppose, if Hermione weren't there to handle things.

"So, how did you two love birds meet?" asked the one they called George, whilst batting his eyelids at us in the most revolting way.

We shared a glance, Hermione and I, and I made it clear to her that I would not be the one answering this question. "Well, it's a funny story, actually..." she supplied, slowly.

"Yes, _hilarious, _why don't you tell them?"

She glared at me, which cheered the depressed lovesick Ron a little bit, before she continued, "Well! I was on a late night stroll one night because I couldn't sleep-"

"Late night? How late?"

"In New York-"

"Isn't that dangerous-"

"Let her finish!" snapped Mrs. Weasly. The woman did have a short temper, I'd realized... but with kids like she had, who could blame her?

"_Anyways_," she continued, rolling her eyes, "I was on a late night stroll, as I said, when I ran into Draco here. He was being chased by these girls, you see-" I coughed upon hearing that.

"Why? Did he-"

"Do something inappropriate?"

"-rob them-"

"I did no such thing!" And that definitely quieted them down a few notches. They all stared at me, and I could feel my cheeks go a little bit pink with colour. Clearing my throat, I gestured to Hermione to continue, which she did, with a big grin on her face.

"No, you see, he's a bit of a celebrity back there. They know him as Sebastian Dominique, you see-" But again, she was cut off by the chatty bunch.

"No way! _The Sebastian Dominique?" _

"As in the writer?"

"That guy who practically owns the broomstick industry!" This was supplied by Ron, which made me feel slightly proud of myself. Disgustingly.

"Well, yes," Hermione continued. "So, since I didn't want to be trampled by the girls who were chasing after him, I helped him hide, and we've been inseparable ever since." This statement was followed by a remarkably long awkward silence.

"Who wants dessert?" Ah. Mrs. Weasly to the rescue again. I figured I couldn't manage this vacation without her.

So it is safe to say, that the next three days will progress in a horrendous fashion. I had been in the midst of contemplating that when I heard a swift knock on the door and a swifter entry. I turned, unsurprised to find Potter and Weasel bee standing there, awkwardly.

When they fumbled for their words, I raised an eyebrow. "Nice to see you too."

"You're in my bed," was all Potter had to offer.

"Oh." Well, what was a bloke to do? I moved my things to the bed that the Weasel pointed to. When they both opened their mouths, I cut in. "Look, I know what you're going to say, it's completely unnecessary."

"Oh, do you," asked Weasly. They shared a look between themselves, Potter just shrugged.

"I'm going to come out and say it anyways. If you hurt-"

"A hair on her head, you'll chop me into little tiny pieces and throw me about the Thames, yes I know," I finished for him. He stood there with his mouth slightly opened. This wasn't how he had anticipated this conversation to go, certainly. "Do you honestly think I'm _stupid_? Clearly we're not talking about the same person. She has more capability to destroy me with her left hand than the two of you put together. If she had wanted to hurt me, she would have done so by now. Don't be thick to assume she cannot defend herself, she'll prove you wrong."

And now they both stared at me with their mouths ajar.

"What? Haven't you faced the wrath of Hermione Granger?"

They took a second to contemplate, then miraculously burst out into laughter. "Alright, mate, we get your point."

Perhaps this trip wouldn't be so bad at all...

"But seriously, if you mess up once, we'll tear you to pulp. Sweet dreams!" And Potter shut the lights, leaving me there to think about the madness I'd willingly stepped into in the dark.

_Oh, she so owed me big time. _

A/N: So, any better or do I still need to work on Draco? I LOVE FEEDBACK and I will incorporate your suggestions in the story, so review! I don't bite...much.


	11. What's so Happy about the New Year?

A/N: So here is the New Years Chapter. I really hope you enjoy it, it's my longest chapter of this story. I am also looking for a Beta reader, let me know if you're interested.

This chapter is dedicated to: -jalice-carter, Jade2099 (Who is an amazingly detailed reviewer), ICorona23, alexybath and omggorgeous for reviewing. Thank you to everyone who also alerted and favourited. You lot are my favourite people in the whole wide world.

I hope you guys have had an awesome year, and hope 2011 goes great for you! Please review!

**Chapter 11: What's so Happy about the New Year?**

**Hermione: **

Waking up to a familiar ceiling in the room I'd always shared with Ginny whenever I'd come to the Burrow for a visit the next morning turned out to be a pleasant surprise. I was attacked immediately with sounds of excitement and clamour downstairs and the wafting of breakfast smells.

Glancing at the clock, I saw it was barely a bit past nine and I was surprised I'd slept in this long without Draco helping me. I must have been exhausted from all of the travelling. Most likely from the sheer bliss of being back in familiar surroundings.

Yawning, I hurried to the washroom and ran through my morning ritual of showering and brushing, taming my hair to something acceptable, which took a bit more effort than usual because I was distracted. More than once, I accidently twisted my hair into a bigger knotted mess with my wand rather than combing it into submission.

Hearing a knock on the door I whispered, "Bugger," then a bit more loudly, "Just a second! I'll be right out,"

I heard a polite mumble of ascent and I assumed it was Mr Weasley. Not wanting to keep him waiting too long, I quickly finished making my hair look presentable, and did a quick once over in the mirror. _Not too Shabby, Granger. _I heard a voice echo back at me in my head, that wasn't quite my own...

Wrenching open the door in my hurry to get downstairs, I didn't realize I had walked straight into Mr. Weasly until I was on the floor on my arse. "Sorry, Mr-" I looked up and found not Mr. Weasley, but _Ron. _What an awkward situation. "Oh, Ron, it's just you. I guess that's alright then," I grinned, hoping to diffuse the very _undesirable _situation.

The poor chap was beet red. I took his offered hand, patted him on the arm when I'd righted myself and head towards the staircase for a quick getaway. But he beat me to it.

"Hermione?" I heard him call. I slowly turned, dreading the expression on his face.

"Yes, Ronald?"

"I'm sorry," he stuttered quietly.

This did shock me. I thought he'd have yelled at me already for bringing another man to his family's home. "What?"

He sighed and turned another impossible shade of red. "I'm sorry things between us didn't work out. But if you could just give me another chance I-"

"Hermione, dear! Is that you? Come on downstairs and have some breakfast, and tell Ron to hurry along, the food shall get cold," Sang Mrs. Weasly up the stairs. I had never loved her more, that wonderful god send! Giving Ron one last apologetic look, I hurried downstairs.

I wondered if I should have just pretended not to hear him and continued walking downstairs. I sincerely hoped he wouldn't make a scene in front of the entire family. That would be a pot for disaster, and with Draco here too...

Then it dawned on me why I was so nervous and excited, so impossibly distracted. Draco fucking Malfoy was here with me, visiting the Weasley's. At the Burrow. A place and people he'd scorned for most of his life. With me, a muggleborn. My heart would have burst if I'd had a second more to think about it, but by that point I'd reached the kitchen and was assailed by Mrs. Weasley trying to pile my plate with half of everything, insisting America had made me peaky and the sight of Dobby being held hostage by the rest of the Weasley clan, telling his story.

I did a double take at the second one, as I hadn't seen Dobby since he'd rescued us during the war... he had taken us to Bill and Fleur's, then mysteriously vanished. Then it dawned on me. Dobby was Draco's elf!

"Dobby!" I rushed over and hugged him. He responded as usual, lovingly and adorably as all elves are. "I didn't know you were working for Draco!"

"You didn't?" asked Harry, curiously. More like in his as always suspicious manner.

"I guess it never came up," I shrugged back.

"Yes, miss! I has been with Master Draco since the startings of the war!" The elf looked positively thrilled at mentioning this to us. George just shook his head.

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that?" Came a voice from the doorway. Everyone turned except for Dobby, who nearly leapt on Draco, slinging his arms around his neck. I nearly drooled. His hair was tousled, and he still had some sleep lingering in his eyes. He had lifted the clingy elf to his back. I found him positively attractive...drop dead gorgeous... Slytherin sex god? He was smiling, genuinely pleased to see Dobby, and that fact made me positively... hot, as weird as that revelation was.

"We've been trying to get the little bugger to tell us the story for an _hour_, but everyone keeps interrupting," moaned George, glaring at the lot. He seemed slightly sleep deprived. I found out that was because Dobby had apparated straight into his bed and disrupted his routine of sleeping until noon.

"Well," Draco began, and everyone fell creepily silent. "They'd captured Dobby and brought him to the manor, because he'd been out searching to help you three," he stared at me, Harry and Ron respectively. "And I suppose I took him under my wing-"

"Master was most kind!" the little elf pipped up.

"I told you not to _call _me that!" Draco lifted the elf off his shoulders and shooed him away. "Go help Mrs. Weasley," and when the elf had gleefully sprinted off, he continued. "When they had got you two locked in the dungeons, I felt it my responsibility to get you out of there and so I begged Dobby to help, who was there, by the way, just invisible,"

I saw everyone's jaw drop and realized I was included.

"He came back eventually, but had to be kept hidden at all times. And now, well, I'm utterly useless at cooking and the sort, so he helps me around and doesn't exactly leave, even when I tell him to take a vacation," he finished, shrugging.

"Vacation?" I asked, intrigued.

"I found one of those pamphlets of yours, for protecting elves rights, back in our sixth year... SPEW, was it?"

I was slightly shocked, but not enough to correct him, "That's S.P.E.W! Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare!"

"Ridiculous name," he responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"_Finally! _Someone agrees!" Harry interrupted my rant and I just rolled my eyes at which they two hoodlums grinned. "She's a bit delusional, she is."

"Oh, tell me about it-"

I cleared my throat and they both stopped, smiling amusedly at me. "So? You found my pamphlet."

"Oh yes. So I remembered the ridiculous name and researched a little bit, and your charity work as well as the petitioning you did at the ministry four years back or so came up. I just took a few of your ideals and applied them. The bugger really likes his freedom, I didn't want him to bond himself back after all he'd gone through to get rid of it and all." By this time, he'd taken a seat in Ron's usual spot, unbeknownst to him, munching on some toast.

I came and sat next to him, in complete awe and slight arousal. "So, which ideals?"

"Well, all of them," he supplied and I choked on the bit of egg that I'd been chewing on. Harry, unhelpfully, pounded on my back until I'd calmed down and taken a sip of pumpkin juice to ease my aching throat.

"_All _of them?" He just shrugged and gestured to the elf. "He doesn't take much, that one. He said no to the 12 galleons per hour and as much vacation time as he likes. So I let him have whatever he likes. Little bugger does steal too many of my socks, though, unfortunately."

Everyone burst out into laughter and surprise. Everyone had come to the conclusion that Draco Malfoy was a changed man, if he could treat an elf that his family had abused, in such a manner. I couldn't help but hug him briefly. He was, perhaps, the best thing that had ever happened to me since Hogwarts.

No one noticed Ronald Billus Weasley lurking at the doorway of the kitchen, where we all sat and merrily laughed and ate. He took no part in the joy, but only glared at the man who occupied his seat at _his _family's table, with _his _girlfriend, _his _friends and family and thought, well... _the fucker's got to pay._

**December 30****th****: **

I began to have such a great time here that I started to wish I could stay forever. With the happy Weasleys, and Draco charming everyone and _snow. _The Burrow always looked wonderful this time of year. Sort of like a lopsided gingerbread house. It was as if life were perfect again, before Voldemort's presence had become a part of my life.

Everything was perfect, except for, of course: Ronald Weasley.

He increasingly spent long quite moments, brooding. When he wasn't brooding he was most definitely glaring. The main object of his attention was, of course, none other than the youngest Malfoy himself. The Weasleys and Harry knew exactly why Ron was so bitter, of course. It was even obvious to me. He was jealous. It was safe to say that Ron and I had ended things on a rough patch, but the man needs to toughen up! I swore I could hear him muttering death threats and planning something rather nasty. Which I would make sure I'd prevent if it was the last thing I'd do!

The day before New Year's Eve was filled with cooking and planning. Mrs. Weasley had decided that this year she wanted to throw a splendid little get together because she had all of her family under one roof, which was a brilliant feat in itself. It couldn't hurt to bring some friends in too, could it?

Apparently, to the remaining inhabitants of the Burrow, it most definitely could. Mrs. Weasley was nothing if not tireless. She shepherded everyone into their places while she cooked and cleaned, and everything else imaginable. I was almost glad when she sent me down to the cellar to see why Harry and Draco were taking so long to bring up the crates of wine that she had ordered a week previously.

Harry and Draco had, unexpectedly, taken rather well to each other. It irritated Ron to no end when he became the butt of their suddenly long list of jokes. It was nice to see, if anything, that my best friend of all time could enjoy the company of the man I was...starting to love?

When I walked down the steps to the cellar and caught sight of Draco's broad back lifting what looked like a really heavy box, my heart fluttered. I hadn't had the chance to spend much time with him since we'd arrived here... not to mention, it would be completely inappropriate to invite him to my bed, while all of the Weasley's could barge in at any moment, even if I gave Ginny a sleeping draught.

"Draco?"

He immediately swivelled on the spot and I could hear the clanking of the bottles of wine in the casket. He had his wand, that I'd insisted he carry with him, clenched between his teeth. The man was absolutely adorable. "...'Ello," he managed to speak around the wood.

I giggled and he smiled. Walking over to him, I took his wand from his mouth and smoothed his hair away from where it had fallen over his forehead. "Where's Harry?" I suddenly realised, stepping away from the moment and his intense gaze. Surveying the rather small cellar I was immediately presented with the fact that he wasn't down here. Unless he was hiding under that invisibility cloak of his...which would be rather embarrassing if you ask me.

"He said something about Weaselette and a bedroom." I raised an eyebrow at him, folding my arms over my chest. He laughed, "Oh and lots of intercourse-"

"Draco!"

"Hermione!" he mimicked. Setting the casket down, he walked towards where I was standing, leaning against the wall. I shivered, as I saw him stalk closer... he looked fucking _gorgeous. _He came as close as he thought I was probably comfortable with and put his hands on either side of me. "_Hermione,_" he whispered, enunciating every syllable, this time with his face inches from my neck.

"Merlin, I've missed you," he breathed so quietly, I'm not sure I even heard it correctly. He pushed closer to me and I weakly put my hands on his chest.

I'd never seen him behave this way before, not with me anyways. His pupils had dilated, his eyes are dark metallic silver and I nearly moaned. He lightly pressed his lips first to my forehead, then to each cheek before taking my face in his hands, gently, as if I were made of glass before-

"Ahem."

My heart must have burst, but Draco looked as calm as ever. When he'd moved out of the way I saw Harry leaning against the door to the cellar with his eyebrows raised.

"I was just...helping with the-"

"Uhuh," he cut of, grinning. "If you two love birds are finished here, Bill and Fleur have just arrived, you lot should come say hello... if you're not too busy, uh, with each other." Draco had the good nature to laugh.

"Oh shut up, you hypocrite. Ever heard of a shower? You smell like sex!" I could hear him laughing as he ran all the way up the stairs before I could lay my hands on him. Standing there, I just shook my head in his general direction, sighing at the situation I'd gotten myself into. I'd never hear the end of it, I knew it.

As I was just about to make my way up the stairs myself, Draco called, "Hermione."

When I turned, his hands were once again on my face, cupping my cheeks and his lips pressed against me, taking something I didn't know I had to give him. It was over before I could really respond do anything or gather anything of myself. He quickly picked up the casket he was holding and made his own way upstairs, leaving me in a confused state of shock.

**Draco: December 31****st**

With all the work that I had been put through these past few days, one would come to the conclusion that I would hate this place. But that conclusion would be wrong. These people were genuinely nice and loving. Even Potter, imagine that.

Despite Ron hating me for stealing, what he assumes is his girlfriend, I suppose I have had a better time here than all of the years spent with my own family all those years ago. These people actually knew how to have a good time, and let me in on it too, despite the fact that I have always been a complete prat to them. It was amazingly surprising and I was thankful to every God in existence that Hermione had had the decency to make me come here with her. How much I would have missed in misery if I had not listened!

But the nagging thought remained in the back of my mind that I did not deserve any of this. Not a single drop of the liquid gold that these people were. Despite the seeds that were there, buried deep within my mind, I fit right in. Jolly well good. It made me wonder, if I had perhaps been a bit nicer... or perhaps not so prejudiced, would I have had this all my life? It made my heart ache that I had wasted so much time on absolute bollocks. _Bollocks! _

The party was, with my help, fabulous. I had the Harpies come play after a phone call to their manager, who cancelled their previous engagements without further encouragement. The cooking Mrs. Weasley insisted she could do herself, but Dobby had insisted that he help, which turned out marvellously. The tent we had put up ourselves. They had told me it was slightly reminiscent of Bill and Fleur's wedding, who were brilliant people themselves as I had come to know in such short a time.

I felt as practically normal, it was almost scary.

When the party began all of the guests were shocked to see me there, and I would have loathed to go through such an ordeal again if it were not for Hermione and Harry diffusing the awkward situations as they came.

And who can forget Mrs. Weasley? The woman was a life saver, taking people off my hands, pushing them around as needed. A treacle tart here and a refill of cognac there was remedy enough.

After dinner, there were a round of toasts. I debated whether or not I ought to participate. It seemed right, but I was a nervous wreck at the thought of it. _It isn't like you have anything to prove to these people._

_What _don't_ you have to prove to these people? Buck up!_

_What will you even say!_

_You're a writer, fucker, get a grip. _

And just as the last toast was being made I shot up in my seat, startling Hermione who was sitting next to me, and causing a grin from Harry. Clearing my throat and gathering even more attention than was necessary from the people who had clearly paid more attention to dessert than to the speeches being made, I began to make a fool of myself.

"Hello, everyone. I'm sure you know, my name is Draco Malfoy and I am a complete, utter foolish arse." At first there was a moment of silence and then a roar of laughter. I was relieved and slightly embarrassed at my own nerve. Raising my hand for silence, I continued, "Yes, many of you might know me as the pompous git, the arrogant bastard- pardon my language ladies- or maybe even the slimy ferret." The laughter continued and I waited a moment. "I am all of those things, I completely agree, mostly because I have given up the opportunity to know all of you."

Complete utter silence.

"With this fast approaching new year, I realize I've wasted time, so much precious time. The company I've been in for the past few days has made me realize how poorly I've spent my life, and so my personal New Year's Resolution is to make amends, to _all _of you." Pausing, I took a deep breath, surveying the room. They seemed intrigued, some were smiling, others were just plain surprised that a Malfoy was doing something so odd.

" My most sincere apologies, and my greatest thanks to the Weasleys for having me and to Hermione Granger, with whom second chances could never be better," I glanced around and people were stunned. Hell, I was stunned too. Staring at Hermione I found her blushing and I found myself glad that I had risen to the occasion or whatever it was that the woman kept spewing at me all these days.

"Have a happy New Year, everyone, cheers," I finished, lamely but was met with applause. Slightly pink from the attention, I whispered a quick word to excuse myself and headed out for some air.

Sucking in gulps of cold air I attempted to calm myself down from the nerves I had built up making a spectacle of myself. I ran my fingers through my hair, knowing full well I would look messy when I got myself back inside, but finding I didn't care. Hermione found it charming, anyways.

I walked towards what looked like a pond that hadn't completely frozen over. It had little plates of ice floating over the surface and I came to the conclusion that it was actually quite charming.

"You think you've got everyone fooled, don't you?" I spun around and found Ron standing there, glaring murder at me with his hand clenched in a fist around his wand.

"What?"

"You think you've fooled everyone, acting grand. But you haven't fooled me. I know you're still a smarmy git with an agenda. And you're going to tell me what it is, right now," he growled at me.

The man was obviously bonkers.

Before I could even reach for my wand he had me standing there, bound. Damn him and his damned Auror training. No, damn me for not keeping up with training defence! "You're still a no good Malfoy, you slimy git. What have you got to do with Hermione?"

"Hermione-"

"Don't say her name! You're not worthy of it, you fucking bastard!" And that remark stung a little bit. In the back of my mind I could feel the planet seed sprout some roots and take place in my brain.

"Well, _she_ and I are friends. Look, Ron, I know we've got bad blood between us-"

"Bad blood! You fucking bet we have bad blood between us. And don't you dare _lie to my face_, damn ferret. You called her a _mudblood_, that's all she is too you, isn't she. Tell me what you want from her, _now." _ I cringed at the word.

"I'm not like that anymore, really. Just untie me, alright? Before anyone finds out and we'll put it behind us," I pleaded with him. I had a feeling if anyone walked out of the tent at this moment it would end badly for the both of us.

"I told you not to fucking lie to me! You're really good for nothing, aren't you? Living off your good for nothing death eater daddy's money. Tell me, what have you planed for Hermione?" And the seed grew its roots deeper.

And deeper.

"Nothing," I choked out.

"Well, good, then. Guess we won't be needing you around, will we. _Petrificus Totalus." _And with that he tossed me backwards into the shallow pond of freezing water, in which I lay barely breathing in the cold water, for which I was thankful. It numbed me.

I began to feel my surroundings float away, one by one, my worries, my thoughts... Very soon it was only me, myself and I with nothing as it should be.

"You're a good for nothing _bastard_," I heard him call.

I was in a timeless lock of apathy, beyond even carelessness. But then, even the concept of self began to float away.

"Stay away from _all of us,_ understand, you fucking bastard?"

But really, there was no Draco Malfoy. I felt my very soul begin to ebb, and then just as my consciousness too was about to take its leave-

"Draco! Ron, what the fuck?" And suddenly, I was wrenched from the water. My mind screeched, it absolutely went haywire. It could not understand how I could not let myself slip into the bliss that solves all problems. But hearing her voice grounded me and I felt I couldn't possibly slip away into bliss when bliss itself was willing me to stay awake. I stared up at her, blankly, as if she were the only thing worth staring at. Later I realized I must have looked dead.

No disappearing into unconsciousness could wait for a more appropriate time.

"Draco, please, say something!" she begged of me, rubbing her arms over whatever she could reach, attempting to provide me warmth. When I tried, all I could do was sputter and heave, cough up water ungracefully. Violent shudders wracked my body and suddenly I felt quite a lot warmer. Hermione had cast a heating charm and potter and draped his robes over me. Glancing up I saw two other Weasleys restraining Ron.

Hermione dried me and between the two of them they managed to get me inside the house where Dobby forced me to down a pepper up potion. I instantly felt better and smiled at the elf gratefully, who beamed back. "Why is Harry Potter's Wheezy not liking you, sirs?"

Patting him on the head, I whispered back, "I seem to have aggravated him, I suppose."

"Dobby is releasing the bludgers on him sir!" At which everyone present in the kitchen laughed to the elf's utter confusion.

**Hermione: **

Ronald Weasley was going to die tonight. I'd planned it and everything. The bastard was going to get his! I was on a rage. Once I'd made sure that Draco was comfortable and in one piece I set out to search for the goddamn bastard so that he could meet his maker. Fortunately for the rest of the Weasleys, George and Bill had dragged him into the kitchen before I could exit.

"_Ronald Billus Weasley!_" Mrs. Weasley and I shouted in unison. But even Mrs. Weasley cringed at my yelling and backed off.

I stalked toward him with my wand pointed at his chest.

"How. Bloody. Dare. You!" I enunciated each word, jabbing my wand into his chest at each word for emphasis. "How could you hurt him like that? HE COULD HAVE DIED YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" At which I slapped him. I could see everyone cringing in my peripheral but no one intervened. Not even Harry, at whom Ron was staring pleadingly for help.

"Explain yourself!" I raised my wand about to curse him to hell and back so I could do it over and over again when I felt a pair of hands grab me and force me to lower my wand.

"It's alright, Hermione," he soothed. "It's okay, I'm alright, see? Let it go."

"He could have killed you!" I seethed, glaring at the monster in front of me.

"He was only trying to protect you, really, it was just a disagreement. Misunderstanding. It's fine, really. No harm done. Let's all just return to the party, okay? We have guests that are probably wondering where we've gone."

Twice tonight, Draco had proven how mature he had become since his days at Hogwarts. I flushed at how wonderful it was to have someone like that be with you. Not some immature bastard who pushes people into freezing water so that they could drown to death! I shivered at the thought.

We all filed out of the kitchen, except for Ron, who I glared at before marching primly out. He stayed in the house, realizing he wasn't wanted. Good riddance too! Damned bastard.

/

It was a quarter to midnight when I found myself caught in Draco's arms, swaying slowly to a tune I was unfamiliar with on the dance floor. He was as graceful as ever, catching me when I stumbled, guiding me where I should be.

"You're really a klutz, aren't you, kitty," he chuckled, teasing me, while stroking a pattern on my back to soothe me.

"You're really a bastard, aren't you, mongrel?" I quipped back, sticking my tongue out at him at which he laughed some more.

"That's Mr. Bastard to you, sweetheart," my heart fluttered like a teenage girls would. _He called me Sweetheart, oh my god. _Rolling my eyes at myself, I attempted to continue concentrating on my dancing, which _was _rather horrible, now that I think about it. But a certain thought was bothering me. I decided to ask him, anyways.

"Were you going blank, Draco?"

"Hm?"

"When I pulled you from the lake. Were you pushing everything away and...you know, using your coping strategies?"

He looked surprised for a second. "How did you know?"

"You had that same far away expression on you as you did when I bumped into you at the park and when I found you bleeding... It scares me, _so much; _tell me you're not going back to that. I can help you, just-"

"I'm alright, really," he cut in quickly, pulling me from the dance floor and getting us both a drink. He downed his in one go, which concerned me even more.

"But really, Draco, you can tell me-" But he wasn't listening. He grabbed me back and pulled me towards the exit of the tent where everyone was rushing towards.

"What's going on?" I asked.

But he just motioned for me to watch. People started to count down to midnight as the New Year approached. I felt Draco pull me towards him and trap me in his arms. I nearly melted.

"_Three...Two...One! Happy New Years!" _Screams of joy and wishes spread everywhere and fireworks exploded in the sky, no doubt George's handiwork.

I'd only caught a glimpse of the spectacular display when Draco pulled my face towards his and kiss me full on the lips. It was the single most pleasurable feeling of my existence. I melted into his touch, being putty in his arms, and not even being self conscious of who might have been staring.

He pulled away after a moment, panting. We both were flushed and grinning. Leaning close, he whispered, "Happy New Year, Hermione."

I smiled, brightly. "Happy New Year, Draco."

Before I pulled him back in for another mind blowing kiss.

A/N: So what are your resolutions for the New Year? What do you think I should make Draco and Hermione do next?


	12. The London Times

A/N: Right. I'm sorry for not updating any faster. School's started and I'm swamped! I'm supposed to be working on assignments instead of writing this but I thought hey, what the hell. Why not.

Warning: Lots of swearing.

I wasn't planning on doing a January in London chapter, but, this seemed like something that needed to be done. Enjoy! And please review.

**Chapter 12: The London Times **

**Hermione: **

After dragging him halfway across the world, I hadn't expected Draco to hit it off so well with everyone here. It was a very curious thing. Was he doing this to charm everyone's pants off and fix his botchered reputation or was he genuinely..._sorry? _

He really had nailed the part about him being a royal prat right on the head.

I personally didn't care either way. It was too good to be true. At this point in my life I'd learned that you absolutely don't question miracles when they come your way. I hadn't questioned the fact that Harry was a goddamned horcrux and I certainly won't question the fact that Malfoy has decided to be nice for a little while instead of his usual broody self in public and to my friends.

The gossip, though, was pure evil. It had spread its phoenix wings and burned like wildfire right through town. The guests who had attended the Weasley New Year's party had spread it on to their friends, who spread it on to their friends with added rumours of course, who spread it on to the tabloids. And boy did the tabloids rage and spread it on to everyone else who had _any _vague idea who I am.

_Golden Girl Returns from America with Malfoy Heir:  
The couple were seen gallivanting at the Weasley's annual New Year's charity events attended by only the most extravagant personalities and figures in the ministry..._

_Miracles Again: Potter and Malfoy Hit it off Famously!  
...The Great Harry Potter has finally found a companion to balance his golden glory! A close insider who wishes to remain anonymous has reported that Potter and Malfoy have been playing quittich nonstop and seem to be inseparable... _

_Wedding Bells! Muggleborn in love with Pureblood!  
The lucrative Hermione Granger has done it again. If relationships with Victor Krum, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were not enough famous personalities to attach herself to, Ms Hermione Granger has found her new conquest, none other than The Draco Malfoy, Britain's number one most eligible bachelor. It can only be assumed how Ms. Granger has done it again. Blackmail, treachery, coercion and a rumoured pregnancy has been suggested by experts... _

And so on. It was absolutely atrocious. I was shocked at some of the rumours that had spread around. Particularly the one about me wanting to marry myself off to Draco for his fame and money- so that I could become even more famous and rich. By purposely making myself PREGNANT? That lie of course, was spread by none other than Rita Skeeter. Surprise, surprise?

And it was complete bullshit.

I was dodging the paparazzi everywhere, but Draco Malfoy completely enjoyed the attention. I shouldn't have been surprised at that. The man was lucid and he was a Malfoy. No need to elaborate there, really. What's worse is that Draco enjoyed himself to such an extent that he absolutely insisted we stay for another week at the very least.

Nothing worked to dissuade him of this horrid idea. When I complained about work, he laughed it off and said he'd already made the arrangements with the minister himself. I'd garnered another week off with full pay.

"But that's... abusing power!" I'd burned.

"What's power if you can't use it, doll?" What bothered me most about that statement was his genuine lack of understanding.

"You're supposed to treat power with proper respect! With great power comes great responsibility, you know," I'd admonished him, standing there with my hands to my hips.

But all he'd done was knocked me over onto the couch, laughing again at my enraged expression. "Oh don't look at me like that. You got that from a muggle movie!"

And we'd both dissolved into a fit of giggles when I finally admitted that, yes, I indeed had gotten that from a muggle movie. Too bad I can't come up with my own wisdom. Perhaps we'd be out of here by now... back to my lovely bed and life in New York without all these nasty rumours and evil mail...including the Howlers.

Who knew Draco had such a fan base? I suppose there's something to be said about the phrase "Britain's most eligible bachelor".

Instead, Draco somehow managed to convince Molly Weasley that staying at Harry's house, which is what we'd renamed the renovated The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, would be a better course of action for the rest of our holidays. How he managed to do this was beyond me... the sneaky smarmy git. Though perhaps her consent isn't so mysterious at all, seeing as Ron was spending the rest of his holidays at the burrow as well. I have never seen any of the Weasley's more disappointed in one of their own. Perhaps Draco is a little bit more of a sociopath than I'd anticipated...

I say this with the utmost affection, but he _is _a git. For the next week, I'll have to endure the sly glances and remarks of Harry and the damned questions.

"So how's the morning sickness going?" Harry had had the nerve to ask me one morning, with the most innocent look he could muster to his smug face.

"How's your mission to last longer than five minutes in bed going?" I responded, smirking, to which he glowed a bright crimson and everyone else present would laugh uproariously.

Check and mate! For a day or two at least.

One thing was for certain. Living with Draco entailed you certainly having to learn how to hold your own ground when engaging in banter.

_**Draco: **_

I knew what I was doing would only delay the madness, but what could I possibly do? I knew I was going mad, no one else needed to know this piece of information, though.

So I fibbed.

I persuaded Hermione that I actually enjoyed this godforsaken place and these people. Even Potter and the Weasley clan.

Like I could really give a proper fuck.

All I _really _needed was a huge distraction so that I could resist the temptation to go completely and blissfully blank. The concept would be on my mind almost constantly, except for when Hermione was there to distract me properly. But since we were in London and being harassed by practically everyone who lived on the island, that wasn't the best possibility. In hindsight, if I'd just gone back home and told her what was going on, she would have been able to help.

But just thinking of going back to New York, scared me shitless. Those streets, endless streets, masses of people to lose yourself in... no one to _recognize _you! I really was losing my mind.

But immersing myself into the role of "the fucker who wants to make up for his past mistakes" worked well. It's not exactly the fact that I don't care what any of them think. Potter, especially, has been kinder to me than I deserve. What, trying to ruin his life for seven years wasn't enough of an indication that I'm a bastard that should be left alone? Making amends takes up a lot of my mental space. Which is good, seeing as I _need something there to fill it all up. _So I am making friends I would have never dared speak to in the past, what with all of that ideological bullshit my father insisted I stick to.

Is it so bad, really? Wanting to be blank? I feel myself wanting to just itch towards the oblivion and I realize that it's sort of like a drug. Thinking about it makes me itch, and perhaps if I don't get the next dose soon enough, they'll find me shrivelled up on the Black's cold dusty floor, all blue and bloodless.

I'm not sure why I'd be bloodless, exactly. Perhaps a vampire found me during the night and had its fun. Who knows, staying in a house like Potters... do you think perhaps he enjoys the added sense of danger? Fucking psychotic kid. Yesterday, he almost chucked me off my broom, when we were playing and spent a half hour laughing about it. Laughing! I could've died!

It must be acknowledged, however, that I'm a brilliant fucking actor. Smiling when I really feel like hiding, squaring my shoulders and facing the world (however small a portion it is), and associating with people who aren't exactly the brightest bulbs of the lot is a huge job in itself.

Most people think I'm just trying to fix my family name. As if I could care anymore about something like that. Infamy is something to leech off of, not to avoid.

Others think I'm attempting to get in with the golden trio and marry myself off to Hermione, or the other way around. I can't recall what the silly tabloids have been going on about these days, even though Hermione cares an awful lot more than she should. Silly girl is self conscious for no apparent reason... she _is _the most beautiful woman in the world, and the nicest most charitable person one could ever meet. What does _she _have to be afraid of, really, from these gossip hounds?

I must say, though, if I really wanted to get with a woman, I definitely wouldn't need to try as hard as they're making it seem.

Also, note to self: Stop talking so much to Hermione, you're starting to think like her mate. No wonder she's a bit crazy.

/

If I remember correctly, it was a Thursday when Ron Weasley came to see me. I had been reading and had dozed off in an armchair in the dusty library. Hermione had gone out with Harry to pick up a few groceries, or something of the sort. It couldn't have been past noon, when the putrid house elf Kreacher came in and announced the arrival of the obviously unwanted guest.

He just stood there awkwardly and I made it a point to glare. Because of this fucking twat I was slowly becoming mentally unhinged! My resistance peeling back slowly, layer by goddamned layer as I became more inclined towards the option of becoming an unwanted vegetable-

"Listen, I came here to-"

"You obviously know you're not welcome here," I cut him off pointedly.

"I know, I-"

"You should be aware I'm not interested in any of the nonsense you're here to spew. What, did your mother send you?" It was obvious that she had when he flushed a most unappealing shade of red.

"Look," he continued, putting his hand up to indicate he was going to say whatever it is he had to say. I stood up. "I'm sorry, alright? I was out of line."

I stalked toward him and made sure that I was looking down at him, even though he's a good few inches taller than me. Pulling my wand out, I twirled it in nimbly between my fingers before addressing him. I could see his eyes trailing my wand movements. "Is that all?"

He nodded slowly.

"I suggest you leave. Now. Before I do something drastic, you little fucker," I enunciated every syllable. His mouth opened, in surprise, perhaps to retort or make some sort of response in defence of himself. Useless, really. "No, you've had your chance to spew bullshit, now you can listen to what I have to say. You're going to stay away from me, and while you're at it, stay away from Hermione too. Run along now, I'm sure no one wants to catch you here."

I could tell he was furious at my boldness. What did he expect, really? That I just lay down like a dog and accept his no good apology? Bastard could run back to his mother and shove it right back where it came from for all I cared. I simply wanted to get back to my tolerable existence, preferably before Hermione came back.

"Draco, where are you?" I heard, as the door simultaneously slammed shut. I suppose luck wasn't on my side that day and carrot top must have thought so too, because I could see him visibly pale at the sound of her voice.

"I'll be right there," I called back, hoping she wouldn't come and find me. She was still explicably mad at the ginger freak of nature, which I found endearing. That didn't mean, however, that I wanted her to yell at me for allowing him in here. That was an unnecessary headache that I would love to avoid.

I made my way towards the hallway to go down the stairs to the kitchen, where I'd assumed she'd be, but she was discussing something with Harry, still standing near the front door. To my trepidation and clear annoyance, I realized Weasley had followed me when the pair fell silent and slightly astonished at my choice of company.

I grimaced when I saw Hermione's eyes narrow.

"What is _he _doing here?" she growled at me.

"He was just leaving," and I gestured towards the door to emphasize my point. But the idiot obviously didn't get it.

"I came to apologize to Mal-Draco," he said, quite bravely in fact. The man was either very stupid or was idiotically brave. Either way, he was going to get his. She turned to look at me to confirm this and I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. Harry obviously sensing the danger present decided he was going to grab the groceries and take them to the kitchen, promptly disappearing down the stairs.

"You have some nerve coming here!" she ground out, as if looking at the man was a painful experience. I suppose some could say it was, what with all the freckles and red hair... "Well? What are you waiting for? Leave."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, what else do you want from me?"

"I want you to leave us alone, is what I want-" she was slowly becoming more frustrated with his presence and I could sense she would blow up any second.

"That's so _rich! _You leave me stranded with absolutely no explanation and run off to America and sleep with...with a fucking ferret! You're really going to choose him over me? I can't believe you'd be such a bitch-"

Before she could even respond, I had him pinned to the wall with my arm clasped around his neck, cutting off his air supply. "You will _not _talk like that to a lady, do you understand?" He didn't respond, his face slowly turning redder and redder...

"Draco, let him go, it's okay," I heard Hermione say.

I turned around to see her horrified face, distracted, before my head was reeling. The weasel had taken advantage of my distraction, broken loose and punched me square in the temple. Growling, I got up and attacked him, satisfied when I heard a crack and him cry out.

Then the fight began in earnest, fists flying, blood pouring out of my nose constricting my breathing abilities, and I'm sure I had given him at least a black eye. Hermione, for the most part, went insane. She shouted for Harry to come separate us, and attempted to diffuse the situation herself, yelling at us to stop. But I had no inclination. I hated, absolutely _loathed_, this mother fucking son of a –

But then, my world stopped dead in its tracks.

Throughout our scuffle we had managed to travel somehow a bit down the hallway. Hermione, being the silly witch that she is, attempted to pull him off me or try to come in between us so the bastard would back away. Her plan didn't work, needless to say and instead she was tossed towards an open door, falling down a flight of stone stairs with a look of surprise plastered on her face.

My heart stopped and I was making my way down the stairs before I could even feel the fear crawl up my spine. Weasley just stood there like an idiot looking dumbstruck.

My voice choked in my throat when I saw her sprawled lifelessly on the floor, blood pooling under her and her limbs placed awkwardly. Then, I nearly died, when upon further inspection I found she had landed on a crate, which had cracked open and had smashed open several bottles of purple substance, which were smoking. Her entire midriff was soaked – and _smoking._

I had her wrapped in my sweater and ready to apparate to St. Mungos before Potter even arrived. He came just in time to take in the situation and grasp onto my arm before I apparated the two of them and myself to the emergency ward, yelling for help, which mercifully came immediately.

/

The next few hours of my life were the longest I'd ever spent just sitting there wordlessly staring at the tiled floor while they dealt with my poor, poor Hermione. Harry had managed to calm me down enough to this state and allow the other healers to heal my minor injuries.

Every so often someone would pop in who had heard (news really did travel fast here for some odd reason), and would offer me their condolences and some support that I never really took in or bother to hear. I just sat there and stared at the floor. Unless a healer scurried out of the room at which I looked up hopefully, and then retreat back to my soulless state when they ignored me and went back to their business.

I found it hard to breathe, after the second hour. It was painful to make myself inhale and even worse to let the air out. My mind was reeling, racing, dying... it was torture.

I couldn't lose her, I couldn't bear it, and she couldn't leave me now! She couldn't...

/

By the eighth hour they were encouraging me to eat something. Slowly nagging at first, then forcefully prodding me to consume whatever it was they had brought.

By the ninth hour I had agreed and violently retched and threw up the contents of my stomach all over the floor. I'm not sure which healer had come to clean it up, or if it was a healer at all, but after that they did not nag me anymore.

By the fifteenth hour, the trickle of healers scurrying out of the room they had placed Hermione in had trickled to about one or two repeated faces. I still couldn't help the small flurry of hope that sprung up every time one of them exited. But when they did not address me with any news, I sunk back into myself and waited, praying, hoping, wishing...

By the twentieth hour they began encouraging me to go back home and sleep and that everything here was under control.

By the twenty-second hour, they had given up on that too.

**Eight hours later: **

The demon had the nerve to show up here. Ronald Weasley was going to die. If I had my want on my person I surely would have killed him right there. I knew I had enough hatred in me for it to actually work. I did not even care about the repercussions. Without her, it was all meaningless anyways.

I settled instead for a few well placed hits, and he didn't defend himself. He was not worthy to be breathing the same air as her, surely, and she wasn't far away. I had to get him away from here, lest he hurt her further.

But he just stood there, unashamedly, a few tears present on his face.

"_Leave," _I hissed, anger rolling off me in waves.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "Tell her I'm sorry." Then he made to leave.

"I am going to _ruin_ you, mark my words. You aren't going to last long here, you hear me, you worthless piece of shit?"

His eyes narrowed. "You've got nothing here, Malfoy. Your family name isn't exactly the strongest, you know. I'm not sorry for anything I've ever done to you. I came here to apologize to 'mione, so-"

"Get the fuck out of here, if you know what's good for you!" I shouted, which attracted some attention and had the security guard coming up to us to see what the issue was.

"Is there a problem here, Mr. Malfoy?"

I nodded towards the offender. "This is the man who assaulted Ms. Granger and I'm not comfortable with him being around here. He might hurt her again," I said, putting a weak effort into controlling myself and not beating the bastard to a bloody pulp.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave..."

And beyond that I didn't pay any attention, opting to sit back down in my silent purgatory. I was vaguely aware of the ruckus the idiot was causing at being forcibly removed from the premises but I really didn't care. When the guard returned, I addressed him.

"Would you mind bringing me a quill and some parchment?"

"Right away, sir."

It was time the Minister of Magic remove unworthy trash from his list of employees.

A/N: I personally like Draco's lucid character better. What do you think?


	13. The Next FortyEight Hours

A/n: So I suppose this update isn't too late, right? It's quite long as well! Tell me what length you all prefer so I know where to cap off in the future. AND THE PLOT THICKENS. If anything is unclear, let me know so I can fix it.

I also forgot to thank you all for reviewing last chapter so here it is:

Thank you to: Jade2009 (TWICE, BECAUSE YOU'RE LOVELY), ICorona23, mmmhmmm, -jalice-carter, JaSpErAnDeEmMeTtLoVeR, and tfobmv18.

Thank you to everyone who also alerted and favourited. I love you all, please review!

**Chapter 13: The Next Forty-Eight Hours**

**Draco: Forty-Eight Hours to Deadline**

It hadn't come as a surprise that the Wizarding community of London was in strong debate of the events concerning the past few days. I should know this in great detail, after all. I _did _instigate it.

My letter to the Minister of Magic had sparked a series of events that even I could not have foreseen, not that I had been paying much attention to anything other than revenge. Once set in motion, nothing could possibly have stopped it. Not even Merlin himself, least of all the boy who lived.

In other words, Harry Potter.

I had sparked something the Wizarding world would talk about for many, many, _many _years to come. It would be known as _the scandal of the century. _It would be written about in history books, and it would come back to haunt me when I would least expect it.

And all it took was a letter.

_Dear Shacklebolt, _

_I'm sorry to have missed your last birthday, again. I hope my present arrived in time as it usually does a week later, to irritate you. _

_I'm writing this not as my usual two month greeting, but to inform you that I am hereby pressing charges against an employee of yours who is a registered Auror. Perhaps you already know who I'm speaking of: Ronald Billus Weasley. _

_You probably have already heard of this, but I'll outline it to you anyways. He assaulted me twice already during my stay and Hermione Granger as well, who is now in Intensive Care at St. Mungos. I am applying for a magical restraint on the man, and he clearly is not fit to be working. I'm shocked that he'd attack his own best friend. _

_As a word of advice, just so that you have a heads up: you should remove him of his post immediately. I have already filed a complaint with the Wizarding Courts and they'll be returning to me shortly. This man is a threat to the community, a threat to the ministry and a threat to your reputation. I assure you, the American Ministry of Magic will support all actions I take. _

_We don't want this to be another screw up in the ministry name. So as your advisor, but more as your friend, I suggest you cut all ties with the lunatic. Try not to take it so hard. _

_Draco Malfoy_

He didn't even take an hour to write back to me, but I knew the swift response was more because Kingsley is efficient than the urgency of the matter. The man was a machine more than human, in my opinion. Anyone who could keep such a wreck of people afloat for more than a few days was a saint with a commendable record. This man had been doing it for years.

I had offered him my friendship shortly after the war trials had taken place. He had helped sway the Wizegmont jury in my favour. Even though he had only really been keeping Dumbledore's wishes in mind, I had needed all the friends I could get at the time, and he definitely needed the support, what with the lunatics he'd had to manage.

Since then, I'd been helping him strengthen ties with the American Ministry. Our friendship had bloomed greatly in these past years.

_Malfoy, _

_Consideration taken in mind. _

_Try not to over blow this if you ca, I'd hate to see an unnecessary scandal. You know how the press is with this kind of thing. _

_Shacklebolt._

_P.S: Yes, your present was exactly a week late, though I'm not exactly sure I appreciate you painting out my status as an eligible bachelor all over the American Times. I'd appreciate if you'd REFRAIN from sending over any more girls. Get married yourself if you're so inclined to attend a wedding. _

Smirking to myself at his response, I marked phase one complete in my head. If I knew Shacklebolt like I thought I did, the news would be spread all over Wizarding Britain with the arrival of the evening prophet. Unfortunately for Kingsley, a scandal of epic proportions was exactly what I was looking for and I had just the person in mind to lead the front lines.

I would have to write to Rita Skeeter as soon as I had the chance.

**Hermione: **

I couldn't tell if I was awake or if I was asleep. My mind told me that rationally, I couldn't possibly be awake right now. I had come up with several reasons for this, of course.

1) I was no longer a Hogwarts student so I couldn't _actually _be sitting in Professor Trelawney's tower having tea.  
2) I hated professor Trelawney and divination so I couldn't possibly be having tea with _her _of all people, in this tower.  
3) Tom Riddle was _dead _so he couldn't be having tea with us either  
4) I was not married to Draco Malfoy, even though I wouldn't mind the prospect, so he and I couldn't have rings appropriately placed on the proper finger... having tea with Trelawney and Riddle at Hogwarts.

So while it was perfectly logical to believe that I was really asleep, I couldn't wake form this positively bizarre nightmare. Is it possible to be aware that one is dreaming whilst asleep? I attempted to wake up, attempted to leave, but every time I tried I was told by all three of them that I could not awake until I had discovered what I was here for. _The truth of the matter. _Whatever the hell that was. But until I had it all sorted out, I was not allowed to leave. They wouldn't let me leave!

Days passed, nights followed and still they all sat there having tea. Continuously. They told me that they could not indulge me until I was ready to accept. Accept what, though? That part they left out purposely to piss me off, probably. I was told that I could not leave until everything was heard and that this was a "crucial experience".

"Will I ever get to leave?" I asked. "I do need to wake up, you know. I have a life that I need to get back to." I smiled apologetically at Draco, who seemed astonished that I'd ever want to leave his side. But I had to remind myself that this wasn't really Draco. This was an extension of my subconscious.

But all they did was smile, and nod, repeating the same nonsensical things that they'd already told me over and over again. That was until I finally had it and stood, losing my patience and overturning the table that we were sitting at.

"Answer me clearly! I need to _wake up_, tell me how to get out of here, _now!_" But they continued as if I had not just ruined their lovely afternoon tea.

Trelawney just had her usual far-away look plastered to her face, her spectacles spattered with droplets of tea that had flown where I had upturned the table. I ignored her, not expecting anything useful from her at all.

I looked towards Draco who stared back haughtily. He had realized that I had spattered his sweater with tea and obviously did not appreciate it. Realizing I had no other alternative, since Draco was never helpful when put out, I turned towards Riddle, praying to my subconscious to have made him somewhat reasonable.

He had lit a pipe and was puffing on it expertly. It was such a surreal image watching his handsome features inhale. Then, as I watched slightly enraptured, his perfectly sculpted lips form a perfect "O" and slowly expel the acrid fumes, immune to the process. It was absolutely obscene. I would have to give my subconscious a good reprimanding later...when I had the time...after I had thoroughly drank in the sight...

He stared at me, calculatingly, waiting for me to finish a tantrum that was long over. After what seemed like an eternity, he leaned towards me just slightly and began to speak, as if what he had to say was the most important thing I'd ever hear in my minuscule life.

It ticked me off, but he was probably right, so I refrained from shouting out, biting my tongue to restrain myself.

"You are _obviously _here for a reason," he said imperiously, gesturing at me to take a seat, settle down. He spoke carefully, enunciating every syllable. "You might as well accept it and get it over faster."

I glared, even though is reasoning made a lot of sense. When he noticed I wasn't planning on sitting down, he smirked.

"Being stubborn won't get you very far in this world, though I admire the effort."

"This world?"

He paused again, as if to make sure I wasn't messing with him. I crossed my arms over my chest, extremely uncomfortable with his scrutiny. He arched an eyebrow. "I had been told you were an intelligent one, but I suppose Dumbledore isn't exactly a credible source these days..."

I instinctively knew blowing up now would just ruin my chances at getting him to reveal...well, whatever it is he knew and I didn't. Dumbledore? Not only was I confused and angry, but also insanely curious. I had to know what was going on before I lost what little sanity I had left. His smirk became more pronounced, as if he knew all about the thoughts running through my head.

"Very good. At the very least, you learn."

He gestured again for me to sit down before waving his hand to right the mess I'd made. It all quickly returned to its place. Sighing, I took my spot at the tea table, realizing this was going to be a very, _very_ long process.

**Draco: Thirty Hours to Deadline **

When I had left for America, it wasn't that I hadn't had any other options available to me. I had just decided that ruining people's lives publicly for the benefit of my business was something I was already good at. For one thing, it was a trait that ran in my family and secondly... some people were just annoying bastards.

I found that having the press make me seem an innocent fellow would be advantageous. Not that I hadn't done this before (Remember the Buckbeak incident?). I just learned being a likeable figure made it seem more believable. It would make me seem like the poor bastard that had gotten the rough end of the stick, and someone who is loved by the public should _never _get anything below luxury treatment. One thing my good for nothing father had never learned: Money only got you so far. People's confidence and support made you thrive. So long as you know how to get it properly, of course.

I had learned early, the more the public loved you, the easier it was for them to accept, even condone, your actions. You couldn't possibly do any wrong. You were practically an idol.

Of course, the rest of the people involved in the business knew exactly what was going on. Especially the person getting their lives ruined. Those being talked against, publicly brought down. Burned to ashes. And of course, there were certain things one can do to alleviate the pressures of such... circumstances. But Ron Weasley knew none of this.

He wouldn't know what had hit him.

First, news of his terminated employment reached the evening papers. It was obvious that Kingsley had tried as hard as he could to downplay the article, having the writer under his thumb. But gossips add, and the word spreads like wildfire. He hadn't been able to stop the front page of the prophet being covered with the news of Hermione being in the hospital and the charges I had pressed against him.

And he most definitely couldn't stop the scandal Skeeter had brewed to perfection.

The man hadn't been able to step out of his house for anything, I'd been told. His windows, and all other possible entrances for that matter, had been barricaded shut to stop the insane barrage of owls. Mostly howlers, I'd imagine.

All of it made me deliriously happy. He _deserved _this. My blood boiled just thinking of his disgusting redheaded..._personage. _I couldn't even come up with a proper insult, I was so furious. But my anger didn't stop me from orchestrating his demise. No, I only needed one more day and he wouldn't be fit to be seen in Britain ever again.

Good bye, Ron Weasley. And good fucking riddance.

**Hermione: **

It was the oddest experience of my life, being taught something useful by my sworn enemy. If Tom Riddle can qualify as my sworn enemy... I hadn't exactly met him, had I? Before this, I mean. It had always just been Voldemort. Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort of the: I will Kill You Where You Stand Class. Order of Merlin first class!

But no, seriously. It was surreal as hell. If hell can be surreal, I mean.

After I had forced myself to sit down and sip a few cups of tea for what had felt like hours, he finally spoke up again.

"You still don't accept that you're in a reality different from your own." He didn't seem to mind this fact. I realized I must have been wasting his precious time, except, well, he probably had nothing better to do, anyways.

"How do you know? I'm trying my best, here..." I trailed off. I didn't _want _to be annoyed, really. It just came naturally.

"We are still here, in a place you obviously associate with lunacy and...shall I say, fraud?" My mouth literally dropped open. How had he known? He smirked and continued, "there are three of us, people you associate with foolishness and fraud," he pointed to Trelawney who smiled, "Love and trust," he pointed to Draco who wasn't paying attention, as usual, "and knowledge. With mistrust, of course," as he gestured to himself.

He sat there, waiting for my response. I didn't know what to say.

"This isn't a dream, this is all very real."

"But how can I know that for sure? And even if it is real, like you want me to believe, how can I trust you? You're Lord Voldemort, how can you possibly expect me to take _anything _you say at face value?" I asked.

"Because I'm not that person," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I told this to Potter the last time he was around, and I'll tell it to you-"

"Harry was here?" I was frazzled. Why wouldn't he have told me something _this _important? It would have made a brilliant research topic!

"Not here exactly. I met him last on his version of platform nine and three quarters-"

"Oh! He didn't mention he saw you, he only told me about Professor Dumbledore... why wouldn't he tell me something that important?" Now I was concerned. More for Harry than for myself, but it certainly gave this place more credibility. If Harry had seen this place and if it had helped him kill Voldemort, like he had said it had, then... perhaps I'm not dreaming. Maybe I'm not crazy at all!

"Perhaps it was because you have a rude habit of cutting people off in mid sentence," I blushed at his words. "It's quite unbecoming for a lady." At this I snorted.

"Alright, master Riddle, do continue with your wise words," I drawled, imitating Draco. Looking around for Draco, I found he wasn't there. He, Trelawney and the whole tower had vanished along with all the blasted tea things while I wasn't looking. Instead we were sitting on a chequered picnic blanket out by the lake.

"How did we get here? Where did everything go?" I made to stand but he grabbed me, forcing me to sit down.

"You are becoming more accustomed to this world. This is a place you associate with calm. Quite a good learning environment. I love it when you lot pick a nice place...I haven't felt the sun in _ages_, do sit a while." And I complied, just because I was shocked that he had touched me. It had felt quite...real. He had lain on the blanket with his head in his arms, absorbing the sunlight. He probably needed all the vitamin E he could get, he was as pale as a ghost. Well... was he a ghost?

"So, you're a..."

"Fragmented soul. People, or souls, become trapped here, in this world. It's a midway between your world and beyond."

"What's beyond?" This was certainly something that was going to be an interesting topic to research later on.

"If you don't get what you need from this world, you'll find out soon enough," he sighed. "And _I _haven't failed so far, so you'll be my first. _Honestly, _anyone can be called intelligent these days..."

And apparently, my determination was amusing to him because he smirked. "Alright, lay it on me," I said through gritted teeth. "Why is your fragmented soul the one...well...guiding me? Why am I here? And why should I trust _you_?"

He stared at me, as if to ascertain I wouldn't interrupt, then lay back down enjoying the sun. He spoke in a bored voice, yet it was still quite...captivating.

"Like I had told you before, you associate me with complete intelligence, which is why I am here, guiding you, as you say," he paused, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, before continuing. "You are here because you need to learn some things that must be imparted to you and this happened to be the most convenient way, apparently. You don't have to trust me, but you probably should. Your time is running out."

He opened an eye to see if I had grasped anything. "Most convenient way... you mean, I was purposely – well, what do you mean?"

He chuckled; as if this were a question he got a lot. "Hermione Jean Granger, I am going to give you a little bit of knowledge now, because your mind works on a singular track." He raised his hand to stop my protests without even opening his eyes. I was rather put out. "It's quite alright. Before I fragmented my soul and landed myself here, I was quite like that as well. Look where that got me, hm? So do try to take my words at face value."

He had me stumped. "So you're..."

"Half of a soul, yes."

"Half-"

"Souls are rarely shattered evenly. If I smashed a mirror onto the ground right now, would the pieces break evenly?" I shook my head. He paused a minute, then propped himself up onto his elbow to stare at me again, unblinkingly. "I'd learned my mistake when my soul ripped the first time and I regretted it properly. I think that's why I was sent here."

"Instead of beyond? What about Trelawney?"

"That's right," he smiled. "As for Trelawney, she's not actually here. Just a manifestation of her psyche. Seers are a part of this world, but they are rarely fully here. You must have noticed how airy and nonresponsive she seemed. That is because she isn't present. When seers make prophecies..."

He gestured at me to finish the sentence. "...they're channelling this world?"

"Very good. Now if you have no more questions, I believe it's time we go get some work done," he said, getting up and brushing the imaginary dust or grass off of his already perfect clothes. He began to walk towards the castle and I began to rush after him. But just as I managed to catch up with him, my vision began to dim.

Everything faded to black.

A/N: Dun dun dun dunnnn... I know, I rather love cliff hangers. Please review, it helps motivate me to update faster.


	14. The Scandal of the Century

A/N: Hello all, this was quite a quick update in my opinion! I should be doing other things instead of writing but eh. Here you are.

Thank you to: Plauged Dark Thoughts, Jade2009, tfobmv18, ICorona23 for reviewing.

And also, thank you to everyone who favourited and alerted

**Chapter Fourteen: The Scandal of the Century **

**Draco: Twenty Four Hours to Deadline **

I was angry all the time now. It coursed through my veins like blood, running me, sustaining me. Having me believe that this is the way to live. Perhaps it was, I don't know, really. But I had never felt so determined, so alive, and so _vengeful. _Things needed to be done, and my anger was the best fuel to make it happen.

The bastard would go down in flames.

If I didn't manage this perfectly, there was no way I could live. The fear, the guilt, the _horror_ would consume me. Claw at my insides until it found a way out of my skin, seeping right through the pores. He simply had to be destroyed because killing him was not an option.

Killing him would upset Hermione when she would wake. And she _would _wake. There was no question about that, now. If she didn't, then my very existence was futile... meaningless. The thought made me dizzy, so much so that I would have to halt and sit myself down until the nervous tremors wracking my body had settled. Then I could go on with what needed to be done.

_I can't live without her. _

It had only been a few short weeks but of this much I was certain. There was no life for me beyond Hermione Granger and returning to the empty shell of an existence I had been living before her was simply not an option anymore. It was her or death. Let fate be kind and join us in the void that is death... Beneath the hot, pulsing anger that was ever present, shrouding me like a blanket, there lay the cold fear of losing her. I would shiver involuntarily. Could life be _so _cruel, to give me such a joy and then to snatch it away so shortly?

But this is why retribution was so important. It could perhaps convince her to wake. Convince her to return to me. Beyond this, I was told there was nothing I could do. Yet I sat with her, every spare moment I had. I was loathe to leave her for even a second, but it was all necessary.

In the name of retribution.

**Hermione: **

When I opened my eyes I found myself sitting at my usual study desk in the Hogwarts Library. At first I was under the impression I was dreaming of the better days, but then Riddle appeared, strolling out from behind one of the many towering shelves of books and I realized grudgingly that this wasn't over yet.

"You _are _quite a studious nerd, aren't you? If _this _is your comfort zone..."

"Hey, you smarmy git, don't judge. I know it was yours too," I retorted back to which he smirked.

"Mind your language, Hermione, I don't tolerate impertinence," he said imperiously, though I had a feeling he was joking with me. Maybe it was the smirk.

"So, why are we here?" I asked, ignoring his comment.

"This is your receptive place."

Great. My receptive place? Why was he never _clear _about what he was saying? I mean, did he really _want _me to go beyond or wherever the hell you go when you're truly dead? Honestly! As if I haven't suffered enough being shoved down the goddamned stairs and into a near death – coma? Whatever. If he wasn't going to be helpful-

He sighed. "At the very least, you've held your tongue."

My mouth dropped open. He could hear my thoughts? What the hell – this is...intrusion!

"Intrusion or not, perhaps you ought to allow me to explain before you continue to rant within your mind, if you can control yourself, that is," he offered, with an eyebrow raised. This man was really starting to get on my goddamn nerves. When that thought crossed my mind though, his smirk became more pronounced.

"This place is the place of transmission. It is the centre of this world, and it is the connection between all other worlds. Everything is passed through here, quite like a tunnel. Everything is open here, and if you were to properly meld yourself, like you will do in a moment, you will ... _receive_, for lack of a better description."

Well, wasn't this just messed up?

"Receive what, exactly?" I asked, stiffly, still slightly miffed he had been intruding in my mind.

"I couldn't possibly know what you're here to receive. That is for you to know and only you," he paused. "And I'll have you know it isn't me prodding around in your mind, everything in this particular room is projected, available for viewing to those that are welcome within it."

"You mean, the Hogwarts Library?" If that were true, it would make a lot of sense how I got all of my work done back in the day...if all you had to do was _concentrate..._

"Not exactly. For those who do not belong in this world, once they enter, they project their ideas and subconscious onto it. It's quite an enigma, really. Almost like a dream..." he faded. Leaving me to wonder what exactly he was thinking.

"So, why can't I hear _your_ thoughts, then?" He jumped a little, startled.

"Firstly, you are not concentrating and searching what you came here for and secondly, I know how to protect my mind properly, unlike yourself," he responded, curtly. He got up, bowed slightly to me and started to walk off. I stood up but he called back to me, "Stay, concentrate, get what you came here for. I shall be waiting for you outside, if my presence is needed. If we do not meet again, it was a pleasure, Ms. Granger. I've heard quite a lot about you." Before I could respond with anything, he was gone.

_Great... now what? _

I took in a deep breath and attempted to do what was expected of me. I attempted to focus, but I wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to be doing. Concentrate on _what_? I instinctively knew I was running short on time, but riddle hadn't told me what I was supposed to be looking for. What does one concentrate on? Minutes passed and a sense of urgency began to build within me. I closed my eyes and attempted to figure it all out, but it was rather futile.

Alright. Well, what would Draco do if he were here?

Now that was something I could concentrate on. Breathing in slowly, I imagined him sitting in front of me, staring at me critically. _"Analyze the situation, obviously. Honestly, Granger, calm the hell down. Don't run from the problem, chase it." _

Analyze the situation... that was a good place to start.

What did I know? I knew I was in a world that was in between world. A place where seers get their prophecies from. And since I wasn't a seer, I don't have a connection to this world. So I was here...to get a prophecy? That made sense. Yes, that really did.

I closed my eyes again and tried to focus on just Draco. "_Aren't you bright? See how being calm gets you places? Now all you need to do is continue to think of a solution. Logic, now, Granger. It hasn't failed you yet." _I smiled to myself, missing him terribly. I could do this. I needed to do this for Draco. I had to see him again. I took a deep breath and returned to the problem at hand.

Riddle had said that this was a room that connected all worlds, sort of like a funnel. So, _logically_, if I were to get a prophecy it would be here. Right? And things were projected here, if I chose to look for them. If I concentrated.

So really, all I had to do was clear my mind and search. It was rather simple, wasn't it? I cleared my mind and attempted to search for an answer. Minutes passed and nothing happened. _Nothing happened! _I suppose I couldn't rush this. Things can't exactly be rushed...yes, I shouldn't panic.

An hour passed, then two, then three but I still remained just empty, no question that this was an insane endeavour. This was hopeless. Hitting my head against the mahogany desk, I groaned.

I was never going to get out of here.

**Draco: 4 hours to Deadline **

I had a productive day.

First came the court hearing, which I supposed I'd nailed perfectly. It was a brilliant victory, one of the many that I'd won in the past few hours. But it was the first and it set my mood for the day. It made me feel _joyous. _

Had the trail been open to the public, this would have been the event of the year.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, Resident of 146 South Ealing Road, Westminster,?" Yes, it was confirmed that he was indeed the accused. "Charges against the accused: Assault causing bodily harm of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, unlawful restraining of Mr. Malfoy, threats to both Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger and misuse of your powers as an Auror. Has the accused have any witnesses to speak at this trial?"

The accused had no witnesses to speak of. Cat in the bag.

"May the evidence be presented, then," spoke the head of the Wizegmont, who for the first time, did not seem bored of his job.

First came Potter, as if any more evidence was needed. Anything that came out of the mouth of The Boy Who Defeated the Darkest Wizard of All Time was good enough for the rest of us.

"Harry James Potter of Number 12 Grimauld Place, London?"

"Yes," he responded timidly, as if just by being here he was betraying his friend of however many years. In essence, he was, but even Potter knew the bastard deserved to be punished.

"Please describe the events on the evening of December 31st, if you will."

"I was attending a party thrown by the Weasleys to celebrate the New Year. The holidays had been going quite well in general up to that point..." he paused, as if not sure how to continue, but he was prodded to continue. "Well, Hermione, as you might know had been visiting from America and Draco had come with her. We were all staying at the Weasley's house. During the party, well... Draco went missing after he had given a toast. Hermione became worried, so we went to look for him."

"What happened, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, we found him out by the pond. He was tied up and thrown into the lake. Ron, I mean, Mr. Weasley, had been standing there with his wand pointed at him saying things to the effect that Draco was a useless...well, you get the picture, I'm sure," he said, uncomfortably. He glanced over at me and I nodded. I hoped I had reassured him that this was a good idea.

"And what happened when Mr. Weasley visited you at your home three days ago?" he was asked. ended up arguing. I decided that I hadn't wanted any part of it, so I went to my kitchen." He paused again, as if the memory was painful.

"I heard insults being exchanged and then a fight ensue and a few crashes. Hermione was screaming at me to come help, and when I did I found Ron standing at the top of the stairs to my cellar and Hermione injured really badly at the bottom of the stairs. She had crashed into a crate of potions that members of the Department of Magical Control were coming to remove the next week... because they're very damaging."

"What did you do?"

"I went with Draco to St. Mungos so Hermione could get medical attention," he said, straightening up.

"Mr. Potter, do you believe Ronald Weasley is responsible for Hermione Granger's condition?" No response. It was quiet for a very, very long time and everyone held their breath. I could practically see Harry unravelling right there in the witness seat, slightly trembling. It must have been hard for him to go against his bastard friend. I crossed my fingers and prayed. "Mr. Potter?"

"Yes." And that was that.

The rest of the trial passed in a breeze. I was questioned. Several of the Weasleys and a few of the guests at the party had been questioned to confirm facts. But that hardly mattered. Harry Potter had spoken, and the rest was really just for show.

Weasley was sentenced five years in Azkaban, several magical restraining orders had been placed against him and his post at the ministry terminated permanently with Kingsley's full support on the matter.

Ron Weasley was completely destroyed. His life, his job, his family and friends were all against him, but that was hardly enough for me. After all, he _had _been a public figure at one point. I couldn't rest with the fact that some people would actually take his side. I had to get everyone else to see how much of a disgusting fucker he actually was.

So after the trail, not only did I complete three interviews, one with Skeeter and the others with writers who I couldn't care less for, just necessary for variety. Every magazine that had _any _respect would have an article dealing with this with their next publication. Even Witch Weekly and the Quibbler.

The media coverage, as always, was spectacular. Interviews, as good as they are in presenting the proper picture to the public are unfortunately not enough in getting where you need to be in destroying someone's life.

I had learned something rather important from the muggles in my time spent in America. Press Confrences were crucial in getting your point across. It wasn't that Wizarding folk didn't attend press conferences. It wasn't even that they didn't quite care for them. It was simply that no one bothered doing it. It ended up being only the minister and officials of the ministry that held these press conferences to address public issues and the sort.

It's quite the opposite in America, as you can imagine. I played it to my advantage.

Not only did I learn that the people of London carry news faster than any network I've ever seen through gossip and the like, but they're rather receptive to scandals. I stood there, barraged by questions, asked questions I hadn't known any respectable human being could ask and had answered them anyways and in the process became a celebrity being that my parents would have been proud of if they'd seen how manipulative I'd become.

Or on the second hand, my mother was probably rolling over in her grave because I was dating a muggleborn when I was the most eligible bachelor in all of the UK. And it isn't as if my father has any coherent thoughts these days anymore.

All in all, it had been a very productive day. Ronald Weasley was now properly ostracized and wizarding London adored me. All is as it should be, of course.

It was the scandal of the century.

As I sat beside Hermione on her wretched looking hospital bed, I told her all of this. I even imagined what she would have said back but that didn't go so well. I couldn't bear doing this for the rest of my life. I needed her to get up and talk _properly. _

I had four hours until the papers were distributed, then all my work would play out evenly. Until then, I would doze.

Sighing, I leaned in and rested my head against the edge of her pillow, careful not to disrupt anything or snag her hair. I took her hand in mine as gently as I could, revelling in the fact that it was still rather warm. _That meant she was still alive._

"I miss you, Hermione."

**Hermione: **

"_I- ...miss- Herm-io-y..." _

I jumped to alertness. I had thought I had heard Draco's voice... but that couldn't be right, could it? I had only just dozed off, really...just for a minute, with my head against the desk.

Could it have really been Draco? It had sounded out of focus, blurry, as if the signal was not as strong as it should have been...

"_Plea... don't—me..." _

I jumped again, sure of what I'd heard this time. I wasn't imagining it. It _was _Draco. Perhaps...if I could concentrate on it a little more, I'd actually hear something. Taking a deep breath, and hoping against hope that this really was real, I closed my eyes.

Immediately, the vision of Draco resting his head near mine popped into my head. He was holding my head and sitting in a chair next to my...bed? I looked _horrible. _Was this me in the real world?

"Please don't leave me, Hermione, I don't think I could bear it..." my heart just about cracked in half and smashed with a hammer into pulp. I wanted to reach out and touch him but I couldn't. I did feel a hot tear slide onto my skin and I tried to talk, I really did, but the image just blurred. Desperately, I attempted to focus once again.

All at once, several images flooded my.

A girl in a white dress with long curly brown hair, walking down a street with a bottle of liquor dangling from her hand.

My parents, smiling, sitting on their regular pink worn out couch, sipping a cup of tea.

Draco, writing at a desk, looking frustrated.

Draco pinning me, kissing my neck and pleasure I'd never felt before...closer than I'd ever been to a human.

A blond little girl and a boy with chocolate coloured hair and grey eyes playing in a sandbox.

Running, running, hiding. Feeling more betrayed than I could imagine. Hurt.

A fire, and a man burning in the flames...

Laying in the rain, holding hands with Draco and drifting...

_Me, _laying, bleeding, torn. Tears falling from my eyes, but oddly at peace.

And then, there was nothing more. I opened my eyes after a minute and found Riddle sitting across from me again, staring at me solemnly. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn't, so I stopped trying. He reached over and patted the hands I was gripping the table with. Were those my hands? I couldn't remember gripping the table so hard...or leaving scratches. I felt something drip from my chin. I swiped at it, shocked. Was I crying?

"You haven't much time," Riddle spoke suddenly.

"No. I saw that much, myself – how can I-"

"No, you haven't much time here. I must tell you things before you leave," he spoke quickly. I paused, assessing him, then motioned for him to continue.

He seemed odd. His eyes went blank and he spoke in a sort of monotone. "You were brought here for a reason. That, which you have been given is for your fate to be decided in your hands, to show the man of identity that is challenged that the good must be put on his shoulders, from his to yours. Heed wisely, you shall learn that you are the vessel of fate, born for this purpose and happiness shall not be short lived – heed – and all shall – be –well -"

He was fading. Everything was going black. I reached out to touch him but found him to be too far away to reach. I was falling and I screamed. Pain jolted into my body. But before I was thrown back into my own world I heard Tom Riddle's lilting voice in my ear, close and sending a shiver down my spine...

"Come see me."

A/N: So what do you think?


	15. Explanations

A/N: Hello everyone. Yes, I know I have no excuses for being so tardy and for such a short chapter. But please review anyways! I've been really busy with school and stuff... but I suppose that's not an excuse. March is going to be a difficult month to update in but everything after that should go great. I plan to finish this story by the end of summer. We'll see how that goes.

This chapter is really just filler. I've been having writers block... Let me know how you like it please and thank you! I update faster when people review... last chapter was so sad. NO ONE said ANYTHING.

_**Chapter 15: Explanations**_

**Hermione: **

First, there was complete disorientation. My eyes, tired and not used to the light of the room began to adjust first. I was groggy, in shock and more than a little bit shaken from being so abruptly thrust from... the world I'd spent however many days in. It was a curious thing that my mind could cope with it at all.

But then, the sensations of being in a body hit me with full force as I was grounded and anything worth note in my mind was pushed back. I couldn't think. First my body was placed in a measure of pain I'd never experienced. I'd been wholly unprepared. Then, as I attempted to groan out for help, or perhaps move to safety, I found myself only being able to croak – my throat being dry and my voice thoroughly disused.

I'd never been gladder that Draco was a light sleeper.

He woke with a start and stared at me with what I suspected were tears in his eyes. I couldn't be sure, being in so much pain. He called for a mediwitch and then stared at me, holding my hand while they went about their business.

At one point I vaguely remember them asking him to leave but he vehemently refused, ignoring them. But I was beyond caring for privacy as they removed my hospital clothes to examine the wounds. He just sat there, staring at me. Happy that I was alive? It made me forget the pain a little, glad that I was alive and that I had someone like Draco.

But was I really? It _had _been a wonderful world to be in... and there _was _a Draco there too. How had he gotten there in the first place? I'd have to ask this Draco, yes... but first, I'd have to find a way back, yes and-

"Hermione?"

His voice jolted me straight out of my thoughts and guild swept over me. "Yes," I responded back.

"Never do this to me again! I was so worried..." He leaned over me, pressing his lips to my forehead and suddenly I felt even guiltier but pleased that someone gave a damn.

"We all were," came a voice. Draco and I looked up to see Harry and a few of the Weasley's standing in the doorway, watching us.

"You know me, I'm fine," I said. "Just a little scratch." Harry grinned at me and I grinned back, albeit a little weakly, because the effort of even that small an action was painful.

"How are you holding up, dear?" came Mrs. Weasley's voice from amongst the many red heads. She pushed her way through her children and looked at me with tears in her eyes. My heart literally clenched, the poor woman.

"I'll be fine, really. It was just a little fall... What day is it?" I felt Draco's hand squeeze mine gently.

"You've been out for four days," I heard Harry say from behind George and Bill, where he had been pushed. "And you smell terrible."

Everyone laughed. Thank Harry for melting an awkward situation. He had been right of course, I was beginning to smell my own odour and...Potions, maybe?

A realization came over me at that moment. "Where's Ron? I'm going to kill that..." Everyone felt dead silent and Draco's grip went a little slack. I looked at him and at the rest of them. "What?"

"I brought you some fresh clothes and Draco too," Mrs. Weasley said, breaking the silence. She had a pained look on her face. I was instantly confused. She handed the bag to Draco and smoothed back his hair in such a sweet fashion that made me suspicious. "You really ought to go and get some rest dear, now that we know Hermione's will be fine." She smiled at me. "Now, you lot, let the poor girl rest, off we go, much to get done today!"

And with that, she made the Weasleys march out of my hospital room. Ginny stopped to whisper something in Harry's ear. He nodded, frowning and kissed her cheek quickly. She glanced over at me once more, smiled sadly and waved before she ran off after her family. I glanced at Harry curiously, who was leaning against the door and then at Draco, who was staring at our hands that were still joined together.

"What? What are you two not telling me?" They shared a look and my suspicions were confirmed. "What did you _do_?"

Harry sighed and came to sit next to me. "Ron is...gone, Hermione."

"Gone? What do you mean, _gone_?"

Draco cleared his throat and stared at me, unblinkingly, with his pretty grey eyes... for a moment I was too distracted, but what Harry said next shook me right back to reality. "When he threw you down the stairs, you crashed into that crate of potions I told you about... you were hurt really badly. Draco filed for Magical Restraint."

I stared between them, surprised. To apply for a magical restraining order... that would not have gone well for Ron. He would never be able to come near me if I didn't want him to, never write to me... no more angry insults..."Well, what happened?"

"I won the case, of course," Draco replied, when Harry failed to say anything.

"So...what are you not telling me?" It was obvious that they were keeping things from me. I could see it written clearly on Harry's face. "Harry?"

"You should rest. I have to go see if everyone's doing okay...I'll see you, Hermione. Feel better." And with that, the coward ran for it. I couldn't even call after him as I was in too much pain.

"Draco?"

"Mm?" He didn't look up at me. Instead, he chose to trace patterns onto the back of my hand, absently...as if he were too deep in thought to care for much else.

"What did you do?"

"I told you, I took him to court."

"And?" I stared at him impatiently, hoping for the best.

"He went to Azkaban for assaulting me at the New Year's party and assaulting you at Harry's house. I suppose he lost his job as a consequence of that..." He finally looked up at me and stroked my cheek, gently, as if he were afraid I'd break. "I was worried about you."

"Draco... you... Ron is still my friend! You just... you ruined his life..."

Draco had ostracized a member of the Weasley clan and the rest of the Weasley's were okay with it? How had Mrs. Weasley even looked me in the eye? Guilt started to wash over me. "Why would you do that, Draco? You have to do something. Mrs. Weasley must be devastated..."

"Harry is the one who testified against him," he said, cutting off all my rambling thoughts. _Harry? _Testifying against _Ron Weasley? _His best fucking friend!

"_Why?_" I asked, not understanding anything at all that was going on. It was surreal... it couldn't possibly be real at all. Maybe I was still dreaming... "You have to do something, you have to get him out of Azkaban. His family is going to-"

"He tried to kill you, Hermione. He tried to kill me. He nearly ruined me... Imagine if you had died! Why can't you understand how much you _mean _to everyone? To me?" I'd never seen him look so intense. My heart beat sped up and as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against mine, I felt my vision falter. "I'm taking you home," he whispered quietly, as the nurse walked in. He leaned back again, still retaining the grip he had of my hand. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you again."

The nurse began to administer the regular potions and before I knew it I was sinking into a dreamless sleep, not having the chance to protest against anything he'd said.

That wasn't so strange. After all, what Draco wants, Draco gets.

**The Next Day: January 11****th**

When my eyes began to open, I immediately groaned and shifted my arm over my eyes, wishing I had had the forethought to not wake up today. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light I found that my body wasn't aching nearly as bad as I thought it would and I didn't have a headache. Not at all. Perhaps today wouldn't be such a bad day after all.

I gingerly sat up in bed, taking in the surroundings of my hospital room. The walls were a light tranquil peach colour, the sheets on the rickety bed were white and the clothes I was wearing smelled fresh. In fact, I felt scrubbed clean. They must have taken care of me while I was out.

I lifted my shirt to see the multitude of bandages wrapped around my torso where the potion must have been spilled. I'd have to ask the doctors what that would mean for me. Would I be horridly scarred for the rest of my life? _Son of a bitch..._

Maybe he _did _deserve what he'd gotten.

Shaking that thought from my head, I looked for Draco and found him right where he'd been yesterday awkwardly trying to curl up his long limbs in the too small chair, sleeping. His mouth was slightly open and he was mumbling to himself quietly in his sleep. I reached for him and he immediately jerked awake, eyes wild, hair sticking up oddly in places. It made me giggle.

"Come here," I called to him, tugging at the sleeve I'd managed to capture. When he finally realized what was going on, he acquiesced and slid under my covers gently, making sure he didn't hurt me. I sighed contentedly when he put his arms around me and pressed his head into my neck.

"You're so warm," he muttered, pulling me even closer. "Soft."

He fanned my hair out over the pillow and gently kissed the side of my neck several times. "Your hands are cold," I complained. When he pressed them to my bare thighs I laughed a little more, then groaned in pain, as it felt as if I'd been stabbed in the stomach.

"I'm going to take you home," he whispered sleepily, promising again. "I'll take care of you."

His eyes fluttered shut and my heart leapt. I knew I'd already forgiven him for what he'd done to Ron, for who can be mad at a face so angelic? I pushed his hair back, over his forehead to kiss the skin. His slips turned up in a small smile so I did it again, kissing his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his jaw.

When I'd let him settle back again against the back of my neck, to sleep I realized I'd missed him here, just like that. The poor man probably hadn't slept in a bed for days... The knowledge made me grasp his hand. His breathing evened out and I supposed he'd fallen asleep.

Before I could sink into sleep again, myself, I heard him sigh again. "I love you," he said, whispering almost. "Don't leave me again."

"I won't," I said back, almost to myself more than him.

It dawned on me that this was the first time he'd said that to me and I wanted to gush like a teenage girl. I grinned anyways, glad that he couldn't see the ecstatic look on my face. I hadn't lied, I wouldn't ever leave him. Not if I had anything to do with it.

Just for that moment I forgot all about the prophecy, the other world I'd spent so much time in, Ron and his family, Harry and even that I was hurt. I just lay there in the arms of my now official boyfriend, not caring that I was too old to be acting this way and definitely just enjoying the fact that he wanted to hold me.

I was happy and I didn't care that it wouldn't last.

A/N: This length isn't too bad is it? What would you like, longer chapters or is this length fine?


	16. To Culminate

A/N: You guys are amazing, I love you all. This is the last chapter that's going to be in London. The next chapter will be of them back in New York and then the drama begins again. I was going to put Hermione's dream world back in this chapter but it got a little too long. So that shall be coming soon.

I'm also looking for a beta reader that edits quick (two – three days) if anyone is interested in that daunting task.

**As well, be warned that from now on this story is strictly M rated. There will be smut, violence etc etc from here to the end of the story. You have been warned. **

This update was unexpected but I just had to do it since you all were so amazing and supportive. I love you!

Thank you to my reviewers: Yolandadcup, RAVEN-NEVAR, Jade2099, neojedigoddess, tfobmv18, PlaugedDarkThoughts, insecuredelusions, kabbage (for two reviews), and krrt. And to everyone who favourited and alerted.

All unsigned reviews will be answered at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter 16: To Culminate **

**Hermione: **

I had a blazing headache, the likes of which I hadn't experienced since during the war. Specifically, after being tortured for information by a deranged bitch at the Malfoy manner. I was obviously in worse condition now, my body weaker than back then. I ached so much that spare tears leaked out of the corner of my eyes.

But then again, I _was _recovering from falling down the stairs, breaking a few bones and had my midriff drenched in a horrifically damaging potion. The healers had told me that it had been sitting in the Black's dungeons for years, just gathering potency. It had seeped right through the layers of my skin, I was told, but since Draco and Harry had brought me to St. Mungos just in time, they had been able to stop it seeping right through to my vital organs and killing me.

For now, though, I had to have disgusting salves applied to the wound three times a day so that it could kill the infested skin, stop the potion from spreading further and regenerating new skin. I'd never been in so much pain, that much was for sure.

And all because of a stupid redheaded cow who couldn't deal with the fact that I was dating his school rival.

_Fucking bastard! _Maybe he did deserve to be in Azkaban after all of this pain... maybe I'd go visit him and beat the crap out of him as soon as I could walk without support. Ronald Weasley had had a bullet painted over his head. Draco had seen to it.

After Draco had practically fought his way through the bureaucratic monstrosity that is St. Mungos to get me out of there and into a set of comfortable rooms in Muggle London he had apparently purchased, or something. Stolen? I wasn't sure. He didn't find it necessary to divulge any information to me.

My injuries had affected him more than they had affected me, it seemed. He wouldn't let me out of his sight. If a person could be _too _attentive, Draco would have it down pat. It was as if he thought I'd disappear if he looked away for even a second. He cooked, he cleaned, he cuddled... for fucks sake, he even helped me bathe.

Three days later and I was still embarrassed about that little fact.

I suppose I shouldn't have been embarrassed about anything. I had, after all, lived in a tent with two teenage boys and managed just fine. He was my supposed boyfriend. He lived with me. He'd told me he loves me. I shouldn't have had any issue with it, yet I continued to blush every time I found myself in that inevitable situation...

He either ignored my embarrassment and apparently every of his own emotions that came along with finding me naked in a bathtub, or he was completely unaware to it and unaffected by my nakedness. Either way, I hadn't known gentlemen like this actually _existed. _

It wasn't as if I could do anything about it if I'd wanted to, anyways. I was still too weak to walk. Feeding myself tired me out to the point where I needed to take a nap. I had no other option but to let him carry on, so we both tactfully ignored the situation.

Or, well, I tried my best at least.

It got especially hard when I was forced to lay across his lap three times a day so he could apply the painful salves, trying my best not to scream.

/

"Hermione?"

"Mm?" I had been dozing on the couch when Draco had walked in, the St. Mungos bag in his hand. I immediately figured out what time of day it was and eyed him wearily. "Did they tell you how much longer?"

He just looked at me for a few long moments, blankly, as if he didn't want to divulge that kind of information. As if I couldn't _handle _it. I didn't know what was worse, him keeping secrets from me, treating me like a child, or his overly broken attentiveness.

He sighed and came to sit next to me. "I made lunch. Do you want to eat first?"

Hmm... feeling like throwing up or having no appetite at all? What a wonderful decision to make. What would _you _choose? "I suppose we can get it over with, if you want."

He sat there while I wearily got up and started to unbutton the white shirt I was wearing, realizing it was one of Draco's. By the time I'd finished and started to remove the tank top I was wearing underneath, I had no energy left. I looked at him, hopelessly and he wordlessly helped me.

I blushed, wishing I could have worn a bra, but the poisoned skin extended all the way to the underside of my breast. It would have killed to wear one, much to my dismay. Perhaps I ought to have anyhow.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, once I had clambered into his lap, wearing only a pair of shorts.

"It's okay," he responded immediately, in his empty gracious form that he'd taken to these days. "It's not your fault. But it'll be over with soon, and you'll get your strength back. Then we can go home."

That was another thing. He was completely obsessed with the concept of taking me home. I couldn't be sure why, and he obviously wouldn't answer, as he was busy shielding me from the world and myself. I couldn't be frustrated with him of course... I could only be thankful. But perhaps, he would see reason tonight.

I would try again tonight.

He pulled me gently into place, pulling on the dragon hide gloves for protection. I closed my eyes, gripping his shoulder to brace myself for the inevitable pain. Screwing my eyes shut tighter I waited. I heard him unscrew the bottle of salve, reach in and smear it over his protected fingers.

He paused. "Are you ready, love?"

I peaked through my lids, seeing his worried expression. A few strands of hair had fallen out of place onto his forehead, into his eyes. I reached up to kiss his cheek, to reassure him. "Yes, just get it over with." He nodded slowly and began lathering the purple, hardened skin with the odorous, pink paste.

I almost screamed this time, almost. Instead, a high pitched squeak escaped my lips, tears flowing down my cheeks incessantly. It only got worse. Hearing a sizzling sound, I stared down at the mess that was my stomach. There was a bubbling mess, I found, part salve/ part diseased skin in a colour that resembled vomit.

Draco held me, whispering things that made no sense into my ear. I wouldn't know what I'd do without him in this situation. As much as I loved the Weasleys, and Harry for that matter, I couldn't possibly imagine going through this situation without him.

He was my stable pillar.

He was the magic to my wand. The chocolate fudge to my honeydukes, the butter to my beer... and any other likeness you could possibly come up with. I was, as you could say, irrevocably in love. With a Malfoy.

What's worse – The fact that he was once a death eater from a long line of muggleborn haters hardly made a difference anymore.

**Draco:**

I couldn't bear to see her in this much pain.

I was barely hanging on to my last nerve, my brain barely functioning. I knew it was slightly too early in the course of our relationship to be this obsessed with her every need – but it was something I had positively no control over.

The truth was, when she'd laid there in that pathetic excuse of a hospital bed, my life had flashed before my eyes. It was lonely, bleak, depressing as fuck. I couldn't manage to live without this bubbly Gryffindor. No matter that she was part of the Golden Trio. No matter that I'd bullied her for so long.

This shit was getting serious.

What was even _more _surprising? I wasn't even close to wanting to disappear. For the first time in _years_ I didn't want to just go blank, forget everything and barely exist. I wanted to live, goddamnit! But I wouldn't be able to manage without my perfect ray of sunshine.

I had just been tucking the darling into bed when I noticed her chewing her lip. That meant she had something to say, but wasn't sure exactly how to phrase it.

"What's wrong?" I asked, instantly worried. Did I forget to do something? Was she uncomfortable?

"We...need to talk..." she mumbled, not looking me in the eye. I sat down next to her on the edge of the bed reaching for her hand that lay above the covers. She was entirely too pale, I noticed once again. Paler than me and that was quite a feat to accomplish. "No, we'll talk when you get in bed."

I let go of her hand, confused. Walking to the loo, I mentally checked off everything that I was supposed to have done for her today and came up blank. What could we possibly need to talk about?

Then it hit me. She most likely wanted to ask about the report the healers had given to me today at St. Mungos when I'd gone to get the new batch of salves. _Well, that's not going to be a pleasant conversation... Fucking hell_! I had been hoping to avoid it for as long as possible, not wanting to alarm her.

After I'd finished brushing my teeth, I looked at myself in the mirror for a few long minutes, wondering what Hermione saw in me. I still didn't like mirrors, or my reflection in general for reasons I didn't want to explore in my mind. Instead, I steeled myself and walked towards the door, towards my salvation.

Her eyes were closed. She looked like a sick angel.

Hoping she'd fallen asleep I inched my way into bed, gently taking her into my arms. "Mmm," I heard her say. "You're cold."

"Sorry, love." I pulled her closer, moving her hair onto the pillow so I could press my face against her neck. If there was one thing I couldn't manage without, it was this. I couldn't imagine a time where sleep was _this _restful, as it was with her.

"Don't be, I like the feeling."

"Are you too warm? Here, I'll just get the lighter blanket..." I was in the process of getting up, when she snagged my arm and shook her head, motioning for me to stay. Instead, she took my arm and brought it closer around her, stroking my palm with her delicate fingers.

"I want to talk to you," she whispered, nervously.

I cringed, hoping she'd put it off for later. Or maybe had gotten too tired to continue. "We can talk about it in the morning, you know," I said as I stroked her hair.

"No. It won't take long. I just want to say..." she paused and I cringed, which she luckily didn't notice. Maybe this could be avoided...what could I possibly do, though? Maybe I could feign sleep, yes that would work.

"I love you, Draco," she said.

Oh.

"And I'm worried about you..." she trailed off.

_Oh. _

Well that was completely unexpected. I held her closer whispering it back and felt her shiver. Smiling, I kissed her cheek, relieved... ecstatic? Maybe a little heady with the pleasure. I could have gotten up and done summersaults, my heart was already doing so. All I wanted was for her to say it again. Maybe a thousand times would suffice.

_The witch actually WANTS me! _

And I was happy until she continued. "Are you... you know...emotionally shutting yourself off from me?" I saw her shoulders hunch up and I knew if I turned her over, her face would be screwed up in mortification of asking such a question. Her rambling tendencies kicked in at this point and she started to speak in hyper speed. "Because that's really not the way to go, Draco, I can _help you, _you know. All you have to do is talk to me. But you just don't –"

I laughed and she paused, clearly confused. "I'm not shutting myself off from you, Hermione."

"You're...not?" she turned to look at my smiling face.

"Not at all."

"But you act like you are," she said, nervously. "I mean, you barely talk to me... you look so _blank _all the time. And you're hiding things from me. You don't answer my questions...It's not very nice of you." She poked my chest at the last statement, causing me to laugh further and for her to stick her tongue out at me.

"I'm sorry," I answered her, seriously this time. "I've been...worried about you, trying to hide it because I didn't want to add to your stress."

"Oh..." she looked stumped for a few minutes and I just watched her in silence, playing with a stray curl of her chocolate coloured hair. "So, you'll stop hiding things from me, then?"

I looked at her another moment, pretending to consider the question. "Nope."

Her mouth dropped open and I laughed, again. She started smacking me, yelling, "You bastard! That's not fair!"

I pinned her on her back, trapping her so she couldn't run away and start a pillow fight. "What's in it for me?" I asked, kissing along her jaw. She shivered as I'd anticipated and continued to kiss her down her neck.

"Anything you want, Mr. Malfoy," she squeaked when I nipped gently at her skin.

Raising my head up to stare at her beautiful face, I grinned. "Oh, anything you say, Ms. Granger?" She nodded fervently so I kissed her soft lips. "What about that?" When she nodded again, I let her arms go to cup her face. Her hands immediately went to my hair and I immediately wondered why I hadn't done this more often in the past few days...

That was until I heard her yelp in pain.

Springing off her, I looked at her worriedly. She just curled up, clutching her stomach in pain, waving at me to wait for a minute. I sat there helplessly... feeling like the most useless individual in the world.

After a few moments, she settled down, panting. When she'd caught her breath, she turned to look at me apologetically. "What happened?" I asked her quietly.

"I must have strained my muscles too hard or something... out of excitement?" I looked at her with what must have been a confused expression. "My abdominal muscles." She pointed to her stomach. "Clenched. When you were kissing me. The muscles that is," she paused to see if I were following. "I'm fine. It was just a shock."

I decided that I'd have to be extra careful with her, now. "And this wasn't your fault, fucker, so don't you blame it on yourself and try to be even more helpful than you already are!"

Damn, she knew me well.

Rolling my eyes, I pulled her back into place so we could fall asleep. "What did the report say, Draco?" _Fucking hell...bad timing this witch had. _

I didn't answer, hoping she'd let it go. "Draco Malfoy, I will disembowel you! I have a right to know! And you will tell me now!" I didn't say anything, felt her stiffen and I could sense her glaring at me. After a few minutes of silence she huffed in defeat and pulled out of my grasp.

Or tried at least.

"Let me go, Malfoy!" I couldn't be sure if she'd felt my head shake. "You're an arse," she muttered, when she found that I wasn't about to let go.

Another few minutes passed before I finally decided that I couldn't keep it from her forever. "Three weeks," I whispered, hoping she'd already fallen asleep.

"What?"

"Three weeks. You should be healed in three weeks," I muttered, waiting for an explosion to follow my words. None came.

"Oh good, I thought maybe you were keeping it from me because I'd be trapped like this _forever. _Hmm... so that means we can go home by February! Better than I was expecting. And then I can read what you have written of your new book. What's it called again?" She continued to chatter but I hardly paid attention any longer.

How was she so damn optimistic all the time? Maybe I'd underestimated her, after all.

**A/N: The Unsigned Reviewers**

Yolandadcup- thank you for your review. Yes, they're going to get even worse now with their lovey duvey ness.

RAVEN-NEVAR- You'll have to keep reading to find out if Hermione dies or not. I don't know why, but I really enjoy cliffhangers and torture! I'm not completely sure about how many chapters but I'm thinking around 40. Don't hold me to it though.

Insecuredelusions- You are _such _a sweet reviewer! Of course I will continue this story especially if I've got your support! I started this at a very tough time in my life and I want to continue just to remind myself that I can make it through. Thank you for reviewing! As for your own writing, I'm sure you're very talented yourself. I wouldn't mind reading your work if you'd like to send me something. I am a beta reader, if you ever require my services.

Kabbage- you are truly brilliant. I can't tell you how much you've motivated me to update so quick.

Krrt- Thank you for adding me to your browser favourites. It means quite a lot! Thank you for your amazing reviews as well, you're brilliant.


	17. Candleburn

A/n: Hello everyone! I know it's been a while but I'm surprised I managed to write a chapter at all with all the work I have to do. for some reason my account wouldnt let me update. ive had this ready for weeks!

Neither of the people who offered to beta got back in touch with me – so I suppose I'll have to do without. Which is absolutely fine! I hope everyone reviews!

This chapter has SEXUAL CONTENT IN IT at the very end (which is why it's so long). I decided not to make it so explicit because it's their first time and I'm not sure if you guys want to read that kind of stuff. So let me know which way I should go with this!

Thank you to: Lilac9109, Kabij, Sabercat7, and Jade2099 for reviewing.

Thank you to anyone who's been keeping up in general. I really wish you would review!

On to the chapter.

**Chapter 17: Candleburn**

**Hermione: **

February rolled in, and so did March, then eventually April. Looking back, those days really feel like a blur. I can hardly remember any of it. Well, that's not entirely true. I remember enough for it still to make me blush.

After three weeks of torture and pain, I was still tired from the ordeal. Re-growing the skin of your entire torso, battling off evil potions and bone shattering pain really brings a girl down, you know? But when the healers declared me healed, Draco and I had as much of a celebratory dinner as our tired bodies would allow us, and promptly took a transnational portkey back to New York.

Actually, if I remember correctly, it was more like ordering in muggle Chinese take-out, which we ate on the couch. On closer inspection, I didn't even eat much, falling asleep instead on the couch in Draco's arms. It was the best moment I'd had in weeks – Draco _properly _holding me, not afraid to give me my favourite crushing hug.

Of course, vacation doesn't last forever.

For me, this meant returning to my dreary ministry job where I was, again, treating like a revered celebrity. For Draco, this mean returning to his multi-billion dollar/galleon (depending on what you were speaking of, of course) corporations and various industries, as well as continuing to write his latest book. Unfortunately, the book was a top secret subject. He would not budge, much to my dismay.

/

It was late one night in March, probably well past two on a Saturday when I woke up suddenly to find Draco absent from bed. This was a childhood habit, waking up at all hours of the night. When Draco had made himself a permanent fixture in my life, I'd roll over and comforted myself with his peaceful presence.

Lately, though, I found myself awakening more often in an empty bed. It was as if the man didn't sleep.

I rolled out of bed, aware I looked absolutely dishevelled and walked out of my bedroom. He had left the door open, most likely to be able to see my sleeping form from his position in the living room, whenever he glanced up.

He must have heard me stumble out of bed and into the living room, but he didn't glance up – giving me the opportunity of surveying him uninterrupted for a moment or two. My eyes were met with a picture of clear perfection, one I'd remember for the rest of my life. Draco Malfoy, surrounded by spare sheets of paper with his elegant writing scrawled all over the place, a pen tucked behind his ear and his grey eyes focused on the screen of his macbook. He was chewing his lip in concentration.

Watching Draco Malfoy work with muggle objects as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world was... _hot. _There is no other word for it.

Eventually, he must have realized I was staring at him for he looked up and smiled. That, in itself, made me gush. As far as I was aware, I was the only person, besides Dobby (occasionally, when the elf wasn't making a nuisance of himself), that he actually smiled at. Sure, he smirked at a lot of people, but never _smiled. _

"Did you have a bad dream?" he asked, turning back to his work when I shook my head no. I made my way to the kitchen, filled myself a glass of water and sipped slowly, still watching him. "I wasn't being loud, earlier, was I?"

He glanced back up at me and I suppose my confused expression was enough of an answer for him. "Good," he smiled, again.

"Are you working on your book?"

"No, just some documents for the board meeting –" but I'd already jumped into his lap before he could finish, kissing his cheek and stroking his hair. " – tomorrow. My, my, kitty. You're affectionate tonight."

"I'm always affectionate," I argued, a little muffled from my place against his neck. "You just don't see it when you're pushing me away to protect your precious book."

He laughed, "Don't be resentful now." I just grumbled and continued to laugh. At my expense, mind you!

"When exactly are you going to tell me the bare minimum? At the very least?" I pouted hoping that would move my case along faster.

"Hmm..." It was always the same response. Never a straight answer, only a HMM! "I'll tell you when I know where it's going, alright?"

"You've said that eight times already, though.." I didn't understand why he was so reluctant to tell me even a basic plot line. That's all I was asking for. This man was a genius writer... maybe he didn't understand or something, but he was _addicting! _And I'd gone without my fix for too long. "Do you not trust me, or something?"

He looked stumped at that question. "This has nothing to do with trust, Hermione."

"Sure it does. You think I'll tell everyone about your stupid little book, and really –" I moved out of his lap and out of his grasp. "I just want to know because you're a really good writer. And I've loved your books before even knowing it was your ferret arse who was writing them, so –" I jumped out of his reach and walked back to bed, flopping myself down ungracefully. "You can have it your way. I won't tell you about all the gossip at work anymore. You can find yourself a new spy!"

He walked over to the edge of the bed and I caught his conflicted look before I turned away from him, facing the window. "Hermione...come on."

I remained silent. "Hermione!"

I smiled inwardly to myself, thankful that he couldn't see me. I'd just managed to compose myself when he roughly turned me over himself. "Hermione Granger, answer me or so help me Merlin I will..." I glanced at him waiting for him to continue his threat. This was always amusing.

"Or what?" I goaded.

"Why you little witch, I'll...I'll..." I laughed at him and he suddenly got an evil glint in his eye. _The monster began to tickle me. _

After a few minutes, when I felt I would've wet myself if he didn't stop, he finally relented and let me go, only to gather me back into his arms again. Spelling the lights shut, we lay like that in silence for awhile, letting our hearts calm and our breathing catch up with our bodies.

"It's called Apathy," he said suddenly.

"What is?"

"My book. It's called Apathy, Love for the Broken."

"That's an interesting name... what's it about?" I looked over my shoulder and into his eyes. They looked conflicted. I _almost _regretted taking advantage of him, forcing him to divulge things to me. _Almost. _He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if gathering himself and his thoughts.

"We shall see," he finally said. And that's all I could get out of him for a long, long while.

**Draco: **

It began as a timid question, once, while I was hunched over some papers spread out over the coffee table. I hadn't heard her the first time. She _did _have the tendency to mumble when she thought I'd say no to what she thought was the most brilliant idea of the hour.

I certainly did enjoy surprising her every so often by saying yes. Her features would light up and I'd feel like that silly icon muggles have. The one with the cape and foolish disguise. Superman is his name! Can no one else realize that it's only a matter of glasses hiding his identity?

"My parents are visiting New York and they want to see you," she said quickly, practically in one breath.

And then there were situations like these where I had to put my foot down and say no. Or try to at least in principle. "Well... why don't _you _just go see them?" I said, looking at her apprehensively. "I'm...kind of... busy?" She looked at me sceptically and I gestured to my papers as if they'd somehow stand up and defend me.

Fat chance. I'm an unlucky bastard.

"Obviously I've been spending time with them. Where did you think I was last night?" She stood there haughtily with her hands poised on her hips and I knew I was done for.

"I thought... Zara?" I questioned weakly.

She raised an eyebrow and I just shook my head, vigorously, hoping she'd get the point and stop harassing me. That wasn't to be so, obviously. "You're coming," she said to me, looking over her shoulder while she sauntered off to our room to throw on a sweater over her shirt. "Got it, Malfoy?"

"No way in Hell am I going!" I shouted back to her, watching her bend over a pile of laundy to find whatever it was she was looking for. I stared. Couldn't help it... I had to admire the shape of her back and – quickly look back to my work before she could catch me.

"Well... too bad you don't get a say, then, love!" She pecked my cheek and walked to the door. "And don't try getting out of it, either! I will drag you there by your ear if I have to!" And before I could respond, the apartment door slammed into place behind her retreating form.

Sighing, I buried my head into my arms.

I just don't _do _the parent thing. I barely knew how to. Most of my life I'd been introduced to my girlfriends/lovers' parents through my own parents at non-confrontational dinner parties and formal occasions. Where they _couldn't _kill me without repercussion. Or make inappropriate conversation! Say, for example, are you sleeping with my daughter, by any chance? Those situations were more like negotiations. Marriage options. And besides, these people were _muggles. _They'd throw me.

I was so, so screwed.

/

Hermione had chosen a high class muggle restaurant so her parents and I could both feel comfortable. I personally would have been more comfortable at home, in my boxers. Watching the telly. The restaurant was well known to the both of us. We'd come here before, sat at the bar and made fun of the monstrosity that they call the youth of today.

Unfortunately, I'd had to forsake television and trek all the way to the trendy muggle sector of New York, right after work. In retrospect, I fin in quite neatly. Rich business man winding down with a few drinks after a stressful day at work. Essentially.

I couldn't make myself go in for the longest time, choosing instead to pace in front of the building. How had I gotten myself into such a situation? I was going to have to convince these people I wasn't trying to kill their daughter. Or for that matter, that I wasn't a Death Eater. Or a blood supremacist...bigamist... the list could have gone on but I'd already worked myself up into such a frenzy by this point that I was ready to walk home without even trying.

Screw Hermione and her wrath. I could deal with it!

I'd have to tell them I _loved _her and that they'd never get her back from my clutches. But if I didn't show up, they'd think I didn't want her. And that certainly is not something I can have. Right...?

So I managed to make myself enter the building. I walked in on an older couple being treated like homeless street urchin being driven away from clean public space by the hostess. She was the bubbly blonde "I never passed high school" type of girl. The kind with a voice that grates at you.

"What do you mean you cannot take us to our seats?" The older gentleman asked her as if she were dense. Which, judging by her behaviour, appearance and attitude, I completely agreed with the fellow. "Our names are on the reservation list-" He leaned over to point at a name on the list.

But the woman had the audacity to cut him off. "We here at Babbo have had the experience of individuals, such as yourselves, take the place of other people's reservations in order to meet celebrities. So I suggest, you," she stopped, glancing down at his unremarkable attire. "And Ms. Whatever here, to go back to your little lives-"

And it was at this point where I'd heard enough from the impertinent little twat. Sure, they were rather...plain, middle class looking. But respect, especially for your superiors was an absolute necessity. Maybe it was the sad look in the older woman's eyes that I couldn't take. She really did have familiar eyes.

"Excuse me, Ms...who exactly are you?" I stepped in before the old man could try to explain his case to her obviously stuffed ears.

"I'm-"

"A very impertinent young lady. Call your manager, immediately. I'd like to see what he has to say about the..." I glanced at her in distaste, slowly staring down at her with practiced Malfoy superiority. "_Help_ being rude to honest, hard-working _paying _customers."

"But sir-"

"Did I not make myself _clear?_ You've already had your chance to be helpful and clearly failed miserably, hasn't she, ma'am?" I asked the lady, smiling politely. She smiled gratefully back. Yes, _that _smile was _also _familiar. "Go on, get Andrew. He and I have a lot of catching up to do about how this establishment is run."

She hurried away. Ah...sweet victory!

"That was very kind of you," the man said to me once the hostess had left. "Do you work here?" He looked rather respectable, not glamorous, but no reason to be treated in such a fashion. The nerve of some people.

"No," I responded, inclining my head. "The owner and I are just very good friends, you see." That wasn't exactly true, per say. I certainly did business with the man, though. He was a stock holder in one of my companies. "The manager is his brother. Here they come now," I said to them as I spotted the disgusting creature bringing Andrew to us. He looked perhaps even more worried than she was.

Before they could reach us, we heard a very loud Hermione Granger calling to us. "Mum! Dad! Sorry I'm late...oh good, you've met Draco, already. How nice!" She smiled at me and I did a double take.

_Mum? DAD? _What the fuck had I gotten myself in to? I tried not to show my panic. Mr and Mrs Granger as I now know them were a little bit more tactful and said hello to their daughter.

When she spotted the manager who was staring at the lot of us incredulity she looked over at me. "What's going on? What did I miss?"

No one said anything for a long moment. All eyes were on me, so I decided it was time to man up and get over with it. "Well...I was just about to explain to Andrew here how his _incompetent _waitress was being so _outrageously rude _to my guests!" I turned and looked at Andrew expectantly.

"It's been taken care of, sir," he said, trying not to look at the hostess who had unceremoniously burst into tears. "Please, let Ian take your coats and I will show you to your seats myself." I nodded to him, while helping Hermione out of her coat, handing it to a boy waiting for it at my side.

"Please, don't let this incident be a damper on your evening," I told the Grangers. Hermione caught my eye and smirked. "They're usually more selective with their employees here." I actually had no idea what their hiring practices were, but it was time to lay it on thick.

Hermione had gone over to her father, kissed him on the cheek and fondly took his arm. I took the opportunity, it was right there in front of me! I can't be blamed for overdoing it.

"Allow me to escort you, Mrs. Granger," I said, taking her arm in mine graciously. I guess learning the pureblood mannerisms were certainly useful after all.

As we were being led over to our table, I could hear Mr. Granger distinctly say to Hermione, "You've certainly found a gentleman, love." And my smirk only grew.

Maybe I was a lucky man after all.

**Hermione: **

Returning to the ministry where my useless job had only gotten more useless in my absence brought me absolutely no joy. I really tried, honestly, I did. I tried to make myself useful, but nothing would work. Not with these mindless subordinates!

Word had spread of my "unfortunate injury while on vacation with the godly Sebastian Dominque (A.K.A Draco fucking Malfoy)" and now I was being treated as if I were an invalid. I assure you, robots. I can pick up a stack of goddamn papers on my own thank you very much! And no. I will not put in a good word for you to the boss.

The only reason I still went to work was because living with Draco made me feel inadequate. Hell, it would make _anyone _feel inadequate, especially me, Hermione Granger. Once upon a time I used to be the efficient know-it-all brat that was through every little assignment the minute it was assigned, thoroughly informed about all subjects by extra reading and of course, top of the class. Hogwarts princess? Checkmark. Brightest witch of our age? Why the hell not.

Now I'm just useless in comparison to the almighty Malfoy.

But now that I look back to our sixth year, Draco had been taking just as many classes as I had. He had kept up his grades to all Outstandings and Exceeds Expectations, while also working with the impossible task of getting Death Eaters into the impenetrable fortress of Hogwarts simultaneously dealing with the possible threat of his parents getting killed if he failed. And the boy had managed the impossible hadn't he? All while keeping his grades up!

Well bugger it all, he hasn't changed a bit. Only now, he's running several wizard and muggle corporations without a hitch, taking his place on the American Judicial Court (The American equivalent to the Wizegmont), writing a book but still finding time to sit in front of the telly for two hours every week day from 7-9 without fail.

And here _I _am, wasting my life doing _NOTHING! _Sometimes I hate you Draco Malfoy, sometimes I really do.

It was a rainy Wednesday and I had just made my way home through the downpour. I had stopped to visit my parents after work and that had considerably improved my shitty mood. When I opened the door, I found all the lights in the apartment turned off a Crookshanks curled up in Draco's spot on the couch. It was barely past 8 in the evening, I was sure House was playing and Draco never missed _that. _

Curious, I thought. _Maybe he went out for a drink? Maybe he's still at work... _

At least, that was my assumption when I started stripping on my way to the bedroom to change in to my PJ's. The door was slightly ajar. When I kicked it open, halfway through throwing my blouse and skirt onto the floor, I found him sprawled in bed, barely dressed.

When I say barely dressed, I mean he was wearing obscenely loose fitting green and silver boxers that left nothing to the imagination. He had his arms folded behind his head, his legs stretched deliciously over the sheets I'd just changed that morning. He was watching the rain patter against the window, his lips slightly parted...as if deep in thought.

I couldn't help it. I shivered.

"It's very cleansing, isn't it? The rain." He looked up at me and smiled his angelic smile. "As if its washing away your sins..." he trailed off. I wondered what he was thinking about. But I just nodded, dumbly, too enthralled with the picture for much else. He was never like..._this. _Whatever this might be.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed and I just followed the instruction subconsciously, unaware of what I was doing until I felt him tangle his limbs with mine, pressing his nose into the crook of my neck. "What happened to your clothes?" I heard his muffled murmur, while he rubbed his thumb right above the band of my completely unappealing cotton underwear. Where did I put the lingere Lavender had bought me for my last birthday?

"Where did _yours _go?"

He chuckled. "I took them off, obviously."

And then he kissed me.

It wasn't like any of the other times he had kissed me – sweet, soft, loving... No. This was _needy. _As if he needed to crawl into me, right under my skin, into my heart and brain. So deep that he couldn't get out even if he tried. Even if he wanted to. I couldn't breathe, hell, I couldn't think. I need- I wanted... no I have to _do something! _

And then suddenly, it was over just as soon as it had begun. He was poised above me. How he had gotten that way I don't know. We were both panting heavily, his breath fanning over my face like sweet peppermint.

I inhaled deeply, breathing him in, smiling.

He just remained there over me, motionless. Staring... analyzing me, critically. Then I realized after a moment, he was waiting.

_For me to say yes. _

I bit my lip, deciding how to tell the idiot not to stop when he started pulling away, thinking my hesitation was probably a sign of a big no. I snagged him back, pulling him to me with my legs around his waist. I kissed him again, hoping this would be message enough.

It was. He finally pressed against me fully and I could feel the length of him through his silk boxers. Damn. I suppose the rumours about him at school were true.

Draco Malfoy is indeed, well endowed.

When the very few scraps of clothing came off, my heart skipped a beat hoping he'd like what he'd see. But it was stupid to worry. All he did was inhale sharply, mutter a very affected "beautiful" and lean down to kiss me again.

The first time was quick, hot and sloppy. I think the both of us were making up for the lost time, for not enough closeness... for friction. He made me orgasm three times before he himself finished, panting and dropped in a heap over me.

His head was pillowed on my chest and his arms still loosely holding me. I cradled his head in my arms playing with his silky hair or stroking the smooth skin of his face and neck. His breathing eventually evening out and the both of us just lay there, listening to the soft noise of the rain. True to male nature, he eventually pulled me in his arms and fell soundly asleep.

The rumors at school _had _been true. Draco Malfoy is a bloody good shag.


	18. Bliss and Realizations

A/N: I had to edit a few things out of this chapter to make the content appropriate for this site. However, it still has some adult material in it. SO IF YOU AREN'T MEANT TO BE READING, DON'T READ IT. Though I don't personally really care, if you've found my story, you probably know what you're doing.

Also, I'm so disappointed in you lot. I know at least fifty of you are reading, but only two of you reviewed! It's heartbreaking. So thank you to Kabij and tfobmv18 for reviewing.

This chapter is dedicated to Kabij who is a sweetheart. By the way Kabij, either your email is not working or I'm in your spam box or you're ignoring me. Either way, you're lovely.

**Chapter 18: Bliss and Realizations **

When I woke in the morning because of the bright sunlight filtering through my curtains, I found myself sore beyond belief, unable to breathe and unable to move.

_What the fuck?_

Slowly, I was regaining my sight and found a body with blonde hair holding me down to the bed. As if I were some bloody pillow. The nerve of the man! I kicked him, I struggled, I even yelled in his ear but all to no avail. He remained stubbornly "asleep". I could see him smiling with his eyes closed, no longer able to pretend he was dead to the world. The bastard.

"Silence, witch!" he eventually said to me, quite amused with the situation. "Can't you see I'm trying to sleep here?"

"Get off! You're crushing me!"

"Don't exaggerate, sweetheart," he mumbled, snuggling his face to my very bare chest. How had _that _happened? And then the memories of last night flooded my mind, making me blush a putrid red colour. "You like it."

"No... I'm _naked, _Draco. Get off."

"Really?" he asked, kissing each breast slowly, making me shiver. "I hadn't noticed." He looked up at me and smirked at my overly flushed face. This was really not going as I had planned. Who knew sex made men so confident? He removed his weight off me all the same but pulled me back into his arms when I made a dash to go get dressed.

"Get your paws off me you filthy animal!" I kicked at him. "What have you done with my agreeable boyfriend?"

He laughed at my obvious attempts. "I've hidden him away. Might have killed him... can't quite remember, to be honest." He pressed his face into my neck and gently placed a few lovely kisses here and there. "I really hope you weren't expecting him back, love."

When I felt his lips sucking and kissing their way all the way to my ear, I muttered a shaky, "Mm...No..." He chuckled and that just made my speed up further. He gently bit down on my ear lobe and I moaned, perhaps a little more loudly than I had intended to. "You can keep him. Lock him up in a trunk and keep him prisoner if you must."

"I'd rather keep you," he said, smiling. And then he kissed me and it was like I was a brand new girl all over again. No, that's not exactly true... I felt like that desirable girl from last night in the bed of the most attractive wizard in the world.

And he was all _mine. _

I pushed at him to get off me so I could have him any way I'd like, but the look on his face when I'd caught him moving away from me was of shock... and rejection. The man was fucking delusional.

He was probably about to make his way out of bed to lick his unnecessary wounds in the privacy of our shower, but I'd pulled him back down before he could escape me. I pushed him onto his back and found his expression of shock and confusion priceless. I couldn't help smile evilly at his expression when I straddled him. The boy was putty in my hands and I _liked _it.

"This is pay back, Malfoy," I said, before biting his lip and grinding against his bare groin. He moaned and I just couldn't help get just a little bit wetter at the sound. When his hands found themselves at my hips, I found bliss followed immediately, so much that my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

**Draco: **

Pushing Hermione's buttons had paid off. Fucking hell it had paid off, so, _so _well. She pushed me over to my back and straddled me so deliciously and wasted absolutely no time getting to it. We both moaned at the blissful contact.

The witch was on a mission. I looked up at her and the sight made my blood boil to the extent where I just _had _to haphazardly thrust back. Impressions be damned, I _needed _her.

She rested her hands on my shoulders, her wild, soft hair falling down over the both of us like a curtain. Her mouth was slightly parted, eyes half lidded in pleasure... I'd never been attracted to anyone this much before. So who the fuck cared if she was a muggle born?

When it ended all too quick for my liking, she collapsed against me covered in a sheen of sweat, flushed so perfectly. She lay over me, her legs still locked around my waist, catching her breath. Not that I'd have ever led her move off me if she'd tried at that moment.

After a while, she looked up at me from her place on my chest and smiled brilliantly after kissing me lightly. "You know, for a Slytherin Sex God, you're kind of really insecure," she said in her matter of fact tone, as if she'd just been discussing the weather or something as equally mundane. Had she really just said that or was I still making things up in my post-coital bliss? She laughed at my obvious confused expression.

"What?"

"I said...you're really insecure," she smiled.

"No, I got that bit..."

"Oh, then what's got your pretty little head confused?" she asked cheekily while moving on to kiss my neck. When I flipped her over onto her back again, she let out a little shriek of surprise before giggling that maddeningly lovely giggle of hers. I kissed her, couldn't help myself. The bruised, perfectly swollen lips of hers were just too tempting for a poor soul like me to resist.

"The next little bit. Something to do with being a God."

"Men. You're such egotists!"

I laughed at her expression. "Women. You're such..." She gave me a warning look. "Angels?" I tried. She grinned and nodded at my appropriate response. "In bed, of course."

She smacked my head rather _hard _and completely ignored my "ow" of protest, the bloody woman. In fact, she laughed at my pain and called my sad, hurt face adorable. The nerve!

"Back in school, they used to call you the Slytherin Sex God... the girls anyways. Always in the loo or Friday night sleepovers in the dormitories." Now that really was interesting news. It made my confidence and ego flare a little bit. "Though I'd always had my doubts. You looked too much of a frigid ferret to me to sleep around _that _much..."

"Hey!" And there she goes crushing my ego.

She raised her eyebrow. "Well, _did _you sleep around? Please tell me you didn't sleep with the hoards of girls that they claimed you did. A different one every night... they said you slept with everyone in our year _and _the sixths..."

"I was not a man whore, if that's what you're asking." I moved off her to rest against her side. She'd gotten over her aversion to nakedness for the moment, which I was fully prepared to take advantage of.

"Well, how many then?" she asked, raising herself onto her elbow so she could stare at me with her brave face. Why she was putting up a front was beyond me. Unless...she was afraid of the answer? I decided it couldn't hurt to bait her on.

"How many what?"

"How many... _people _have you slept with?"

I pretended to look thoughtful, as if considering her question carefully. "Only people, hm?"

"Draco..."

I laughed at her horrified expression and grinned at her responding scowl. "I'm joking, Hermione. Try not to have an aneurism. How many...hm...I'm not sure, really, such a long, long list, you know..."

"Draco!"

This time she hit me and I laughed for a whole five minutes. Eventually she joined in too. "Seven, including you," I finally admitted after we'd calmed down. Her eyes widened a little in surprise. "Too many?" I asked, but she shook her head no.

"Who?"

Were we really going to have this conversation and right after such perfect sex too? "Does it really matter?" I asked, my voice softening because I could tell she was honestly afraid.

"Yes, obviously, or I wouldn't have bothered asking, silly." He poked her finger into my chest.

"Well, if it matters so much, who have _you_ slept with then?" I asked, mimicking her actions and poking her in the chest.

"Victor Krum, Ron and you," she said without skipping a beat. "Now you," she encouraged. My mouth opened a little in surprise at the information. I hadn't thought she'd actually tell me. I could feel the beginnings of jealousy begin to form at the back of my mind, but I told myself not to let it irk me... it shouldn't, after all. They were all gone. Krum was married to some bimbo or another and Ron... well, he'd never be a problem ever again, would he?

"Well... Pansy, Astoria and Daphne Greengrass-"

"But they're sisters!" she interjected.

"I know..." I responded, giving her a knowing look. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as if attempting to comprehend the news. When I laughed at her eventually, giving her a wink, she glared and gestured at me to continue the list.

"Right. The Greegrasses, Lavender Brown, Padma Patil, Mary Shoonmaker who was in Hufflepuff, and you," I kissed her cheek. "You were the best, no doubt about it."

She scoffed. "No need to console me, Malfoy. You slept with _all _the houses..." A blank look crept onto her face.

"I've no reason to _lie _to you. If you weren't the best I'd tell you, just so you'd get adventurous and work harder," I winked at her again and she blushed. "Overachiever, you are. But really, Pansy wasn't all that great in bed. Made all these high pitched noises that gave me a damn headache." She giggled at that and I couldn't help but smile. "I slept with the Greengrasses when I was drunk and barely remembered it after. Padma Patil was a bore and I was...inexperienced. Wasn't a pleasant experience for _either _of us, if you know what I mean."

"Hmm..." was her only response.

"Lavender Brown was sixth year, actually and I was just desperate to forget...everything that was happening at the time. It was after Potter tried to kill me, so it was..._painful._ Not that she cared. I rather think she was trying to forget that Weasley ignored her, or at least, that's what she kept saying. It was a scarring exprierience actually. Did you know she called me _Weasley?_" Hermione grinned, understanding what that must have been for me.

"And the last?"

"It was here, in New York, actually. I was ah... not in the right mental state of mind. She took advantage of me, I only found out later because she kept _owling _me like a mad woman." I shuddered at the memory.

"I guess that's not so bad," she finally said. "I've got to get going, love. Going to be late for work." And with that, she was gone for the day with just a kiss and the scent of her on the sheets to go by.

/

For weeks we just went at it like rabbits and I felt like this is how we always had been. We were so consumed with ourselves, so _full _of it, so in love that we barely had time for anything else anymore. Work, cooking, sex, sleep and that was the cycle for days on end.

It was definitely something I could get used to. How had I lived without this my entire life? And who knew Hermione bookworm perfectionist Granger would be a damn minx in bed?

These days all I had on my mind was her and her body, her smile and her moans... it was perfection and I couldn't ask for anything else. I honestly didn't need anything else in my life. This would be enough. Who would want to be emotionally and mentally gone if there was _this _to be had? This was therapy in itself.

The only downside to it was my writing had gone a little bit down the drain. It was a sacrifice that I was willing to make, though. But it wasn't as if I had much else to do anymore when Hermione went to work and she encouraged me to get it done so that she could read it. I wasn't sure if I wanted her to read my latest project. Tones of her were all over it, the book was practically _about _her.

Apathy: Love for the Broken.

It had started out as the musings of a man on the mend but lately, when my life had been so colourful and happy... well, it had seeped into my writing and framed itself into my masterpiece. Was it a masterpiece anymore?

Professor Snape had been the one who encouraged my writing. He had said I had the aptitude for such things. He was right, of course. The man had almost been as omniscient as Dumbledore had been and that was really saying a lot.

"_You have to work with what you have, Draco,_" I remember him saying. "_The makings of a good work aren't to be forced, you impertinent child. They can only be influenced but not wholly dictated by what you want. Don't force yourself on it, let it come to you how it will." _

The man had been an annoying genius in almost everything he had deemed worth his time. So I supposed I'd give him my faith and take his old advice before he had left me alone in the world.

Apathy would just have to be colourful for a while.

**Hermione: **

For everything that had happened these past few weeks – boring work, my parents showing up for vacation, Zara and her insanity, Draco in my bed... something just felt off.

I couldn't put my finger on it. Was it that I was finally happy and had no stress on my mind from anything whatsoever? Or was it because Draco still wouldn't tell me what his damn book was about? He _was _a secretive bugger and that _did _bother me a little bit once in a while.

But even when I'd spent hours contemplating this at my useless job, since I had nothing better to do anyways, I'd decided that _no, _these couldn't possibly be the reasons why I lay in bed at night with something nagging at me, Draco cuddled against my back. There was something... something that I was missing and it wouldn't let me fully enjoy everything that was going on in my life. What could possibly be wrong? I had a boyfriend who loved me, a job that was "prestigious", a best friend who was lovely and my parents adored what I was doing with my life. Why wasn't I thrilled?

Then one night when Draco and I had finished doing the deed and he'd just fallen asleep against my still warm neck, it hit me.

_My parents, smiling, sitting on their regular pink worn out couch, sipping a cup of tea._

The memory filled me – but I had _two _memories. One shown to me by Tom Riddle and the other... well, I'd just been there a few days ago, hadn't I? Hell... this wasn't good. It wasn't good at all. I'd completely forgotten about my task, mission whatever the hell it was when Draco and I had finally...

_Draco pinning me, kissing my neck and pleasure I'd never felt before...closer than I'd ever been to a human._

Shit. So that prediction had come true as well. I hadn't thought about what any of these things could mean. I hadn't thought about the dream world... well, since I'd gotten back from St. Mungos, actually. No one could possibly blame me of course... I'd had a lot of my plate.

But it was time to go back to the dream world, that was for sure.

**A/N: Review if you want an update! Or if you care... I'll give you cookies! **


	19. When the Leaves Change Colour

A/N: So now begins the trouble. Please, please review for the sake of my sanity! I was supposed to be studying for my exams when I wrote this, but ah well. I actually have one in less than an hour as I'm writing this authors note. Fun stuff, right?

If any of you have interesting stories to read – I AM INTERESTED. I haven't had enough fanfics to fill my time. So just PM them to me, or leave them in a review and I'll definitely stop by!

Thank you to: tfobmv18 (my most faithful reviewer) and HP0247 for reviewing.

**Chapter 19: When the Leaves Change Colour **

**Hermione: **

To be honest, the dream world wasn't something I wanted to deal with, at least not just this moment. I _deserved _some time off, honestly I did. I did not fight a war, spend a whole lot of time in a useless ministry job and settle down difficultly in a different bloody continent just to be faced with another life challenging mission. I deserved peace, goddamnit! I deserved a break and some fucking happiness. I was going to make sure I got it, too.

This whole prophecy, crazy Tom Riddle mumbo jumbo could wait a while for me to figure it all out. It was my turn to settle in my happily ever after. So the Gods, fate and prophecies _could _wait. Right?

Right?

In an effort to keep my mind off the inevitable, I started focusing on Draco. That wasn't too hard seeing as he was constantly around me. He took me to bed more times than I could possibly care to count, so the passion certainly hadn't died down. But that wasn't it. Love making had opened my eyes to certain things about it. I was more...aware of Draco, you could say.

Suddenly, I noticed he took his coffee black in the morning. He would place his cup to the right and slightly above his bowl of cereal and the morning paper placed perfectly to the right. I noticed that when he shaved, his expression was practically morose as if he despised the sight of himself. I noticed that when I made him do laundry with me the muggle way, he would fold the clothing in a strangely specific way and organize them in our little closed by size, item and colour.

I loved him suddenly, _all over again. _

I started to notice all kinds of things, unfortunately. Both the good and the bad. I noticed how when he wrote, he would have so secretively just to irk me. I noticed how when something disturbed him, he would put up a stone cold, uncaring facade to brush it off instead of talking to me about it.

Most importantly, I noticed how he would only keep a minimal amount of his possessions at my apparent. I couldn't really call it _our _apartment, even though the both of us had been living here together for almost a year now. He didn't appear to be committed to making a life here. Every Sunday, Dobby would stop by with new clothes, supplies, Draco's work things and books. He would cook dinner and apparate his cute little self away with all of Draco's "used" possessions from the previous week.

Was I supposed to not be afraid just because Draco had slept with me and stuck around afterwards? I was frightened to death that he'd just up and leave one day. After all... the only possessions of his that were at my apartment could easily be shoved into two bags and then _poof, _the reason for my existence would just be GONE.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the smartest idea in the world to question him about something that was so clearly an insecurity. It was probably an issue to his fragile state of mind. However, being the impulsive, know-it-all freak I am, I decided I couldn't hold it in any longer. So I questioned him. Kill me now, but I did.

"Draco?" I asked timidly, one Sunday morning.

"Mm?" He muttered over the paper.

"I... well..." He looked up at me, sensing my hesitancy at broaching the topic. After a moment of silence I realized I was staring at him with my mouth wide open. He smiled when I snapped it shut, blushing. "Do you not want to be...here?"

He continued smiling and placed his elbow on the table so he could support his chin with the heel of his perfectly shaped hand. "Where, love?"

"_Here. _This home...with me?" He looked confused at the question. Damn, this would be harder than I had anticipated. Maybe I was making it all up? Perhaps I was... Perhaps hormones had gotten in the way. Maybe Draco just didn't want to impose on my space? I mean, the place was awfully small... Maybe Draco didn't like small? But he had been here for a year after all. "You know what? Never mind. Stupid question."

"Hm..." he said thoughtfully, continuing to stare at me but his smile had faded. "Why would you think something like that?"

"I just... It's really not important. It was a stupid thing to ask," I muttered, looking down at my shaky fingers, praying he'd let it go.

I felt him lift my chin up, making me look at him so he could see what was wrong. "Tell me," he insisted, a small frown marring his beautiful, perfect face. "Keeping secrets isn't nice, Hermione," he scolded. "How can I solve problems if you won't tell me what they are, hm?" The shameful flush probably just deepened on my cheeks. "Well?" he prodded.

"You just... seem to not want to commit to living here. You know, with me," I quickly spat out, hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions. I felt like _I _was the one on the spot now, which was completely unfair. This was supposed to be a confrontation of _him _not me! I noticed he was about to open his mouth to say something that would probably only embarrass me further, so I cut him off and continued my useless rambling. "You know, you don't really have your things here... I know you stay here, with me, and all... but you could just as easily pick up everything and walk out. I mean, I haven't even seen your place and we've been together for a _year_, Draco," I finished, slightly out of breath from having spewed that out in one breath.

His frown had only deepened by the time I had finished talking. He stayed silent for a few moments as if he were gathering his thoughts. "I hadn't even realized that was a consideration..." he mumbled, more to himself than to me. But I could already tell that his defences were popping up. Great. Not only had I made a complete fool out of myself, but Draco would probably not ever talk about it ever again.

"It's not, I was probably wrong to ask, anyways," I agreed, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible. "You know what? I think I'll go see Zara today. Is that okay with you? I'm sure Dobby will be here soon with your things, anyways." I walked into our room, _my _room, and picked up a towel and some fresh clothes. "Maybe you can tell him to not make anything too heavy for dinner tonight, yeah? If you're around. If not, I'll write a note down before I go..." I continued my rambling all the way to the bathroom just so he wouldn't have another opportunity to say anything.

When I entered the washroom, I tried not to notice my red cheeks in the mirror or the growing feeling in my chest. God, I was such an idiot! By the time I entered the shower, I had to support myself on the tile wall. Why couldn't I just accept everything the way it was? It wasn't as if I were expecting the man to marry me or anything... was it so bad to ask for a little sign of commitment, after all?

But I'd screwed it up. Now he probably would look distant all week, and those weeks just _sucked. _Barely talking, barely sleeping and so much writing that it drove me insane.

I was so caught up in my thoughts while I was washing my hair, that I didn't even hear him come through the door and step in behind me. I suddenly felt a pair of arms come around me and stiffened. "You really are beautiful, Hermione," he muttered against my soapy neck. I shivered in reaction to his smooth voice.

He started to massage the shampoo into my hair and afterwards scrubbed my back for me and all of it was done in silence. When I was clean, I made to turn around to give him the same treatment, but he stopped me. He held me in place, with his arms protectively around me as we stood under the steady stream of the shower.

"Is that what you really want? To see my old home?"

I considered it for a while. Draco had told me a lot about the place as had Dobby when he'd come to visit every once in a while, when Draco wasn't around. It sounded beautiful. Why would Draco want to live here, in this dump of a place if he had something far more spectacular? I thought perhaps maybe it was because of me. Because he thought I needed to maintain some sort of independence. Well, that was complete bullshit. In the city, space and location means everything when searching for a house. So what if that meant it was Draco's place? I could find other ways to be independent.

So of course I nodded my head to the question when he asked. If nothing else, it could sate my curiosity. "If you're sure... perhaps I'll take you, sometime."

At his offer, I turned and this time he let me. He reached behind me to turn off the water while I just stared at him. His hands were placed at my shoulders, lightly, but I could see the tension in his eyes and his posture. It had taken him a lot to agree to this and I almost felt bad for accepting the offer.

Smiling, I wiped a droplet of water from his nose and kissed him. "I'd like that," I whispered back.

To this day, I'm not sure if I imagined his shoulders sagging and the slight imperceptible shudder that ran through his body. If it had been there, it was well gone before I could discern that it had happened at all. Soon, he was acting normal again: All smiles and cheer, so I had no reason to believe that anything was wrong.

If only Malfoys didn't put up such brilliant masks of deception.

**Draco: One Week Later**

"Draco?"

I looked up and found her staring at me with an empty bag in her hand with her eyebrows raised. Scrunching my face trying to decipher what a measly looking bag could have to do with me, I just shrugged at her. "What's that?"

"It's the bag Dobby brought here last week. Why did he leave it here?" When I didn't say anything she stood there with her hands on her hips. I turned back to the book on my lap, trying to figure out where I had left off so I could mark it down. "Draco! Pay attention when I'm _talking _to you!"

"I don't know... oh, he told me to bring my dirty clothes back when we go this week... what's the day?" I scratched my head. My thoughts were jumbled a lot these days. Ever since Hermione had asked if I would take her to see...my house... I had been a nervous, jumbled, messy wreck. I didn't know what I would find there, but I couldn't say no to her expectant face. I would just have to hope for the best. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said it's Sunday," she repeated slowly, as if speaking to a fool. She came and sat down next to me putting her arm around me and stroking my hair off of my forehead. Her fingers were cool and I leaned into her touch. "Are you sick, love?" I shook my head as her fingers stroked my face. "Is there something wrong?" she persisted.

"Mm...no?" I closed my eyes against the touch. This was the only way I could feel _grounded _these days. When she touched me, held me, it let me focus. Well, not focus so much as to forget that there were a thousand thoughts and anxieties floating around in my head. She could make it all go away.

"Are you sure? We could go another day if you like..."

"Go where?" She smacked my head a little harder than necessary. "What the hell was that for?" I exclaimed indignantly.

"You _just _said Dobby asked you to bring your things when we go see him at your house this week," she responded with a clearly worried look in her eyes. "Are you _sure_ you're feeling alright?" she asked again. When I nodded she just shrugged and got up before I could grab her.

I would have to up my game. If she figured out what was going on she wouldn't let me live. After all, I was supposed to have my mental _illness_, if that's what you wanted to call it, all under control. If she knew how precariously close I was to the edge, she wouldn't forgive herself if she found out it was all because of that stupid house and the stupid memories that lay trapped within it. Fantastic. This would go insanely well. But Malfoys certainly did not give up. And Malfoys were a calm, cool mask of perfection...

"Well, Mr. Perfection. Are you going to pack your clothes?" I heard her ask from the bedroom. Had I been saying that out loud? My eyes snapped wide open. Hell, I hadn't even noticed I'd closed them... So maybe I was a little bit _more _out of control than I'd anticipated. But this was something that needed to be done!

"Can't you do it for me, princess?"

"I am not your _wife, _Draco! Do it yourself!" But when she caught my perfect mask of pleading pathetic helplessness from the door, she rolled her eyes. "Draco Malfoy, you are a lazy arse. I hate you!"

I laughed a little at that. "I love you too!" I shouted back to her. She had better fucking appreciate all that I was doing for her.

/

The moment we had apparated into the wards of my wretched house, Hermione exclaimed how beautiful it was. I hadn't really noticed before, but it _was _indeed beautiful if I were to look at it from her perspective.

Muggles couldn't see it, of course. What, with the wards, unplottable spells and such – it was a piece of property that was really, really hard to find. Perhaps even better protected than Potter's disgusting place that Hermione had made me stay over when we had gone over to Britain.

But hell, I could barely move when I looked at it. I was paralyzed with fear and anxiousness. If it hadn't been for Hermione dragging me forward, I would never have been able to set a foot inside the house. I could feel myself slipping away. A little bit when I noticed the paintings and the decorations in the front hall.

A little more of me slipped when we sat in the kitchen, Dobby preparing us a meal. I don't remember if I had put up a good enough front of conversation when we had sat down and eaten. I don't even remember eating whatever it was that Dobby had made us eat. I knew I must have made it through it because I remember seeing an empty plate before me, soiled with a red sauce. The colour red made me shiver.

We might have been there for hours, might have been there for minutes. I must have lost all sense of time. By the time I saw Hermione lead me into what was clearly my own bedroom, I felt a twinge of regret. For what? It was essential I figure out what I was regretting. Was it because I had failed her? The angel... who is the angel?

And when that angel sat on my bed, managing not to wrinkle the sheets, I was completely gone. The darkness enveloped me. When she reached out to me, her pale hand the only light in my world of darkness, I was already too far gone to accept it. Even though I reached out, I could already feel the darkness had completely enveloped me.

I was gone, but I had come _home. _

Finally home.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to suggest fanfics to me, if you have the time.


	20. Faithful Failures

A/N: I'm really really really sorry for the extremely long wait but I've had writers block and this chapter was kind of hard for me to write. By the next chapter we've sort of reached a halfway point with the plot. So let me know what you think! This chapter is depressing, in my opinion. So here's your warning.

Thank you to: Jade2099, Pseudoephedrine, tfobmv18, Plagued Dark Thoughts and Kabij for reviewing. Without you guys I really wouldn't have the will to write at all.

**Chapter 20: Faithful Failures**

**Draco: **

It was something very different. Rather, I could not hold onto conscious thought. It scared me. I could not keep myself safe in such a method. The light would burn me. I knew it would... it always had.

When I awoke, the light scarring me, I found myself surrounded by soft skin. Soft skin and fingers gently stroking my neck. I would have panicked, I _should _have panicked, when I felt that there was a leg around my waist, restraining me to the bed. When I caught sight of what it was, who it was actually, I relaxed as much as I was able to. It was the angel that kept the bad dreams away. She had come to visit me! Or perhaps I was still asleep?

"You're awake," the angel said to me, smiling. The angel had _talked _to me, just now, yes? This could not be a dream then, no. No, of course not. It was odd. Had she come to say goodbye? Yes, that had to be it. She had come to say goodbye to me.

She stroked the side of my face, gently. Tenderly. When she leaned down to bring her face close to mine, I panicked afresh. This could not happen. This could _never _happen. A memory flashed before my eyes. One of a pretty blonde girl in a dingy, dirty cell, leaning towards me just like the angel was leaning towards me now.

Heartbreak, lies and a flash of green light before I was met with lifeless, cold eyes and an evil cackle. No, this angel could not touch me. I was not pure enough. I would kill.

_Maim. _

When I pulled away and scrambled off the bed we had been on, much to the beauty's shock, I landed right on my arse. The floor was hard. It was cold. She got up and looked at me with concern shining in her eyes but that only made my panic grow. She would come after me, I knew it. She couldn't. It wasn't a good option. I would not be safe. _She _would not be safe!

"Draco? What's wrong?" she asked me. Was she talking to me? Surely, that was my name... Oh, yes. The angel knew my name. How could I hide from her if she knew my name? I flinched when she made to come closer, when she made to get off of the bed. The angel was hurt by my actions, I could tell. But better this than to be a dead, lifeless corpse.

I remembered again. It hadn't just been one corpse. It had been dozens... villages of them! Yes, yes. I remembered. They would not have let me forget. They would haunt me. They would tell me their names and cling to my clothes and _beg... _And then they would bleed.

They would all die and I would always be pulled back to move onto the next crowd.

I ran from the room without looking back.

When the sun had set, I made my way back to the cursed house. I stood on the porch, the innocent looking porch, and wished I could get the haunting pain over with so the blessed blankness would come back to me. It couldn't be far away now, could it? I could be _empty _again. I was a little empty already, in fact. Not all good things were gone.

Still, I stood there, unable to move. I knew the eyes were watching every breath I took, every shiver that crawled up my spine. They were all watching me, I knew they were. They always would. Always have been. They were probably still screaming. They were probably in pain... I just was not able to hear it.

Can screams possibly be silent?

Yes... yes, I suppose they could be.

The door opened of its own violation so I knew the eyes had seen me and acknowledged my cowardly, filthy presence. It was time to pay my dues so that they would let me be empty of consciousness. I entered and made my way to the confines of my own chambers as silently as I could.

No one came. No one followed me.

I hadn't expected anyone to, after all.

I gently made my way under the bed, making sure not to make any noise lest I disturb the peace. Or attract any unwanted people to witness such a sacred ceremony. When I stared at the underside of this bed that was no doubt mine, I realized it must have been a while since I'd been here. Perhaps they were _mad _at me.

When the howling chants of "_Stupid, stupid, useless! Broken, worthless..." _began, I knew that they had always been mad at me. It broke me just a little bit and just a little bit more empty bliss followed. It was relieving. I waited for them to yell louder and slowly... so slowly, they eventually did.

This is exactly what I was. Nothing like the angel. Nothing like any of those innocents that had died before me. Nothing like the little boy that had hidden behind me from the men in black cloaks and masks. Had he died because his blood was not red enough? Was my blood red enough? I remembered the little muggles and their insides being extracted by magic. They had seemed just as red to me.

So much blood.

I prayed for the voices to scream louder this time, maybe they'd have me go deaf and I would not have to see the screaming spectacles ever again. But I knew it was only until next time. I knew I was just as evil as the men in cloaks. I knew I deserved to be in the spot of the scared little boy.

The _dead _little boy.

He had had silver eyes and chocolate hair. And now he had nothing. I shivered and felt the blood pulse in my veins just a little faster. Good. Faster was good. Soon, the voices themselves went away, happy to have tortured me. I could not remember them at this point. I did not even know my own name. I simply knew that in order to exist, I would have to breathe.

And so that is what I did.

I breathed.

**Hermione: **

I cried so much in secret these days that I had to rush to replace tissue boxes before anyone found out. It was a strange thing to worry about though, people finding out. Who would care that Hermione Granger cried rivers? Or buckets, more accurately. No one can _actually _cry a river. Perhaps I would. Perhaps I could set a new world record.

But I was afraid of anyone finding out. I didn't want anyone to know that I was so weak. Not Dobby, not Draco's associates, not my very few friends, and definitely not Draco. I wasn't sure he'd notice something like that, anyways. I put up a brave front regardless, for everyone but more simply just for Draco, hoping that maybe this would help him get back to me.

It _was _my fault after all that he was like this. I had done this to him out of my selfish need to worm my way into his life.

I hated myself more than I could bear these days.

And yet, I managed. Every day I would wake and search for Draco, first thing. Sometimes I would find him, sometimes I wouldn't. Either way, it was clear that he didn't want me around. I probably _repulsed _him, and I deserved it too. The way he would behave when I was around only confirmed this fact.

He stopped coming to my apartment, even though he'd practically been living there for a year. It was as if he wasn't even aware that it existed. He refused to acknowledge me and still I tried. Probably because I felt guilty that it was because of me that he was so utterly blank again. Maybe I just wanted to take care of him, help him get back onto his feet before I left him to his own devices.

I tried.

Most days he would behave as blankly as I'd found him that first time in Central Park. It was on these days that I had to follow him around and make sure that he didn't hurt himself in his haze. Some days he would be slightly aware and tortured just because he was still breathing and conscious. On those days I would not be allowed near him or even in his house. Dobby would show me out politely, even though I'd done the worst I could to his "master".

On those days I'd go home and cry myself into a fitful sleep.

/

"Draco?"

No answer, but that was not so unusual. He lay beneath his extravagant bed in his extravagant room. A room that was in his very beautiful, very empty and cold house. His eyes were red and was staring blankly at the underside of his bed. My breath caught. Would he turn me away today?

I didn't say anything. That was a sort of rule these days: Don't talk, just don't even think about opening your mouth, _please._ He didn't flinch though, as I slid in beside him and his breathing remained the same even rate. This was a good sign. It meant he wouldn't have a bitch fit or an allergic reaction to my very presence.

"Have you eaten anything?" I asked him, flinching at the sound of my own quiet, hoarse voice. I don't know why I still tried or why I still bothered talking to the unresponsive blond. Two weeks into it and I still couldn't abide by the rules.

I knew my voice only irritated the fuck out of him but I just couldn't stop. I was lost. Without him my world had fallen apart. I was going to crack soon. There wasn't much more I could take of this... soon, I'd just point my sad little wand to my head and mutter the words that would end this. It wasn't as if anyone _really _wanted me around anyways. My world was completely broken as it was.

And because of me, his world had broken too. "I'm sorry," I whispered to him.

Long moments passed before he finally acknowledged my presence.

"Can I go now?" he asked me. The dreaded question that always came and one that I had to answer, as I had learned, or he would break further.

"Yes, Draco. You can go."

**Draco: **

My world was a haze of despair on bad days. Most days it was just worrisome trudging. I could make it if I played it safe. I was playing it safe, so I definitely would make it out of here. I could manage. No one would find me. I had respite, yes. I had no emotions and that was _safe. _

Otherwise, the memories would come back to haunt me and that would hurt. No, I had no emotions. It couldn't possibly hurt if I had emotions, could it? But it would. Incessantly. _Constantly. _

It was a world of agony and all I wished for was apathy.

I had apathy, though, and my angel was still around. I saw her daily. I saw her flitting back and forth. She would stay, I had a feeling. So it would be safe. Memories couldn't plague me if it was safe. Not with the angel around, right? But sometimes, she left and that was when the pain would start.

I really needed to learn the lessons.

"_Itty bitty Draco, don't you know? There isn't any love for the broken." _

A/N: So what did you think? I know it's a little shorter than my usual. Drop a line! And if you lot know any good fanfics to read, drop a suggestion.

Unsigned Reviews:

Kabij: I'm glad you enjoyed it! I like being a little evil to my characters once in a while. :)


	21. On Hallows' Eve

A/N: Such a quick update! I do not support alcohol/drug abuse and it is extremely bad for your health. If you _are _doing it, be safe and be smart.

Thank you to: Alexybath, Jade2099, AbsolutelyEmpty, tfobmv18, and mangokake for reviewing.

If any of you were interested in the dream world part of this story – that will come into play very soon. I hope you get the reference (from the prophecy mentioned in chapter 14) in this chapter.

**Chapter 21: On Hallows' Eve **

On the last day of October, I realized that I'd finally snapped because of the miserable existence I'd been living. I realization hit me when I opened my eyes in the early dawn light and felt absolutely nothing but sorrow. So the first thing I did when I got out of my pathetic bed all alone in my drafty apartment was to down three shots of fire whisky, one after the other.

I'd regret it for the rest of my life.

It was astonishing. I walked into the ministry building hidden in the bustling streets of Manhattan partially tipsy. That's right. War hero, celebrity arm candy, know-it-all, pristine Hermione Granger came to work _inebriated. _The end of the world had come and if there was a hell it would surely be freezing over.

It wasn't as if anyone at the ministry had the bollocks to call me out on the self medicating. So, throughout the day, I would take a few gulps of the putrid tasting whisky when I thought no one was looking. I wasn't completely irresponsible, of course. I still was aware that I had some semblance of a reputation to maintain. I only drank enough to stay blissfully unaware of the constant pain I was in.

Besides. No one _really _knew the difference because I really had no job here that they could see me flail at in my depressed, drunk state. My job was to be a poster child, really. One Harry would have shunned me away for if he had any idea that _this _was what my life was like. I was "Sebastian Dominique's" A.K.A Draco Malfoy's precious girlfriend. I was practically public relations- just not.

By the end of the day, all I'd done was meet several flashy people, supervised some Halloween event that was taking place later at the ministry for the workers and made sure everyone did their work with a huge fucking smile. My job was to slack around and promote the ministry's actions.

I was doing it superbly.

At one point in my life, I'd have been disgusted with my actions, my career and really, anything to do with myself. But really, who gives a fuck? It pays the rent, doesn't it?

When I left the office that day, I couldn't feel any more pain. Whether it was the festive Halloween decorations or the alcohol, I didn't know. In fact, I was almost giddy if my grin was anything to go by. I didn't _need _a Malfoy to shag. I didn't need anything but another fire whisky and I would climb over a pile of smelly trolls to get to it!

How I managed to get to a pub in one piece, I really have no idea. All I knew is that once my arse met the bar stool, there were men lining up to buy me drinks. Was it the gauzy white dress I'd worn to work that day or the fact that I was Draco Malfoy's girlfriend that made me so attractive to the leeches? Whatever it was, after being rejected on a daily basis by the man I loved made me feel almost elated with all the attention they were showering on me.

Well, being drunk helped too.

By the time midnight rolled around, I was hammered. It was probably because of this that I was not able to understand that letting Zara's ex-husband, who was a complete bastard, buy me a drink.

"You son of a-! Wait, is that fire whisky?" He only nodded to my slurred question, smirked and pushed it towards me. "Well, I guess I shouldn't look a free drink in the mouth then, yeah?"

"It's not free. You'll have to give me your company," he said, in his annoyingly greasy sounding voice. He lookd me up and down, pausing to leer at my chest. "I'm sure...we will have a lovely night together." I cringed and turned away from him to the guy on my other side, but he yanked me roughly back by my arm.

"Ouch! Get off of me!"

Immediately, as if sensing the opportunity to save a damsel in distress and to get into another girls pants, three or four men came to my defence. When the arsehole didn't let go of my arm – which was really starting to get painful even in my drunken state – they voiced their discontent.

"Hey buddy, the girl said to let go."

"Yeah, she's not interested-"

"You lot mind your own business," the ex responded to them, his grip on my arm only increasing in pressure. If I hadn't been so drunk I'd have probably cried in pain. "I work at the Ministry of Magic." Like I gave a fuck he was a ministry official! _I _was a ministry official! He probably wasn't expecting my knee to collide solidly with his groin. Hell, even _I _was surprise I'd managed to do it so soundly. His hand flung out and hit some bulky man's nose.

It wasn't going to be a pretty sight.

What followed afterwards was like a series of chain reactions that I couldn't comprehend. Rather than take a part in the flailing limbs and yelps of pain, I nicked a bottle of fire whisky and snuck out as best as I could. The amount of attention that the brawl was now receiving allowed me to do this effortlessly.

I skipped drunkenly down the street in my white dress, the bottle of fire whisky dangling from my hand, laughing. All too soon, I stopped. First, because I'd grown dizzy and secondly, because the scene felt like a serious case of déjà vu.

Had I done this before?

I really tried to think back, wondering what it was about this scene that rang off strong warning bells even in this drunken condition my mind was in. But I was too confused, too saturated in alcohol to place such a vague reference. It was as if I'd seen this before...perhaps in a dream, long ago...

Maybe I had _dreamed it! _

I was celebrating my revelation with another swig of fire whisky when I was startled with a push to my back. I stumbled but whoever had rudely shoved me caught me and pulled me close against their torso.

"There you are, you little bint!" I heard, roughly whispered into my ear. The fucking bastard had found me! How had he managed to get away from all those people in the fight? He pulled me flush against him and I felt a tingle of foreboding, which promptly disappeared when his lips found their way along my neck.

I stiffened. There was something wrong with this picture...very, very wrong. I knew it. But what? Hmm...

"H-Hermione?" I heard my name called out, disbelievingly. I turned and looked to find Zara staring at me, shocked and her eyes mysteriously shining.

"Zara!" I pulled myself away from the stalkerish arse and stumbled towards her. "Hi!"

"How could you do this to me?" she whispered when I was close enough to hear. She looked over my shoulder at the monster. "With _him_? Why?"

"Hello, Zara," I heard the smarmy voice from somewhere behind me. He was closer when he spoke again. "Doing well?"

Zara didn't say anything, not that I could remember. She glared at the man, grabbed my arm and apparated us away. Apparating hadn't been the best option. Thank god there was no one in sight, because once she had let go of my arm I promptly bent over double and hurled the content of my stomach on the pavement in front of me. The action sobered me up quite a bit.

I looked up, realizing we were at Draco's home. It took me a few long moments to realize that I'd told her all about "happily" living in Draco's fabulous home. I'd done it to cover my miserable life and lead her off the trail of my misery.

"How could you, Hermione? After everything I've told you!" I just stared at her blankly. What was she talking about?

"I didn't do any-"

"Don't! I was there, I saw you with him! I was _worried _about you, when I heard what was going on – I came to _look _for you! And...Were you going to go home with him?" Before I could say anything, she turned away and started to walk away. Before I could call her back to stupidly defend myself, she turned around and glared at me. "I thought you were my friend! I _trusted _you!" she shouted.

"Zara-" I started, but she wouldn't let me have a word in. It was a good thing, I suppose. I didn't know what I would have said.

"_Never _talk to me again," she stated, coldly, before apparating away.

When she was gone all I could think of was that another person had rejected me. My life was a farce, my boyfriend despised my guts and now I had no friends. I was a horrible, terrible person. No one wanted me.

I was all alone.

I couldn't help the tears that came this time, even if I had wanted to. At that point, I was too low and broken to be strong for anyone. I was shattered and a little on the helpless side. There was nothing more to it.

I sobbed it all out.

And that was how Dobby found me, sobbing and sitting in a puddle of my own vomit.

**Draco: **

The little faithful creature brought my angel in to lie in bed. She lay there sobbing and suddenly, I was afraid. They did not know I was there. Perhaps the creature did. The creature knew many things. I watched on from the shadows, regardless. It was a horrid sight to see.

The angel lay sprawled over my bed with the creature coaxing her to take a vial of blue liquid. It seemed familiar, it did, as if from a distant memory. A father drinking it the morning after a drunken rage? Perhaps it was so. It would not be safe to show myself until the creature had left.

When it finally did, I slowly inched my way forward. She must have heard me for she turned, spotted me watching and sobbed all the harder for it. Red, blotchy eyes, tear tracks and tangled hair... she looked as if she were in _agony. _

I choked back a cry. I had seen too much agony for my angel to be in it too.

"What do you want from me now?" she finally spoke up, just barely. I was confused. Want? "Just take it and _leave._"

The angel wanted me to _leave. _

I started to shiver, frozen to my spot. She looked too miserable to leave. Who would protect her if she was so indisposed? It was not safe for her and it was definitely not safe for me. I should not have wanted to stay to protect her. It could have killed me, but I could not let another's blood fall on my conscience.

I shook my head at her and she cried all the harder. My heart began to ache. Had I made the angel cry? Was this _my _fault? "Why are you here now? It isn't as if you want me anyways," she said. And that was what shocked me to the core. Not want the angel? What an absurd notion.

Did she not know that if I touched something so pure it would burn? It would turn to _ash! _And then there would be no angel. Who would guard my dreams? If I had had a heart, it would have burst, surely. She turned away from the sight of me, and for a second I was relieved.

It was not my dreams that needed guarding tonight.

So, I did not move. Against all odds, against every red siren, against my very instinct, I stood vigil in the darkness. I would defend the angel's life in fear that if I did not, the fragile being would wither away. When she had drifted off into a fitful sleep, I stood guard just outside the heavy wooden door that I'd left ajar, so I could keep an eye on the pitiful thing.

And soon, darkness was driven away by the light of the sun but still I stood faithfully in my spot. She did not stir, but even from here I could see the colour of cheeks and the slight raising and falling of her petite form. She was breathing. I had done it. I had kept away the beasts that swallow such beautiful things in the night.

I knew she was safe when the sun had crested the horizon. But when the golden orb had risen enough to light the entirety of the city, I knew no more.

**November 1****st****, 3 PM. **

When my eyes snapped open, I awoke to a huge blinding headache. It was a headache that screamed _fuck me, I need a fucking potion NOW. _Scrambling out of bed, I realized I was fully dressed. Now that _was _odd. It felt like I'd been asleep for an eternity. I heard my joints cracking as I stretched haphazardly while also trying to untangle myself from the blankets that had been draped over me. When I looked around I realized I was in my own house, in my room, all by myself.

_Well, shit. _

I almost ran to the door, stumbled over the blankets that I'd dropped the floor and crashed into an ill-placed chair. The resounding crash of both the chair and I shook the room. "_Fuck!" _I exclaimed. No sooner than I had screeched every profanity that I could remember in the haze of pain that I heard the door creak open.

"Draco?" I heard the tentative voice.

When I saw her meekly enter my room, I felt relief rush through me. So I _hadn't _just dreamed that I had Hermione Granger as a girlfriend. That was good news. "Hi, love... did I startle you?"

She just stared at me blankly. "Hermione?" I asked, slowly getting up and wincing at the pain in my now throbbing knee. Rubbing it gingerly, I stared back at her and was startled to find she was crying. Concerned, I made my way towards her quickly, and held her. "What's wrong?" I asked, stroking her back.

"You're..." but instead of finishing, she just shook her head and sobbed.

I knew I'd hit my knee, but it hadn't been bad enough for it to make her _cry _about it. And then, as I held her, the realization hit me that she was a lot skinnier than she was supposed to be. Her hair was far more unruly and much longer. Her skin was far too pale...

Soon, little memories began to worm their way back to my consciousness as they always did and I stood there, holding the love of my life, shocked silly. It's not every day that you wake up from a coma-like dream and not even realize it.

"I'm so sorry..." I whispered into her hair. "I..."

And then she practically jumped into my arms, nearly crushing me with the force of her bear hug. "We're going to fix this," she said. I could tell immediately that she was putting up a brave face for me and I held her all the tighter. This was an issue that had stuck with me long enough. I owed it to her. I would never do this to her again... never.

"It's okay, baby... it's all going to be okay."

A/N: See you all soon (I think by next week I should have the next chapter done). We are now moving on with the plot!

Unsigned Reviews:

**Alexybath**: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you're so supportive. I hope this chapter wasn't too scary for you... it _does _have a happy ending. To answer your question, yes, that was Bellatrix at the end of the last chapter and that little quote does have some significance latter on in the story. Enjoy!

**Jade2099**: You make a very astute observation. You're right. You can't avoid reality for too long without everything crashing down eventually. But, now (hopefully) they will learn from their mistakes. Thank you for reviewing!


	22. It's Going to be Alright

A/N: Hello, everyone! So here is the promised update. My internet is being really slow though, so I hope this goes properly. I'm hoping to get this story done by September, so updates are (hopefully) going to be really frequent. So I'll see you again next week. Enjoy, be safe, I love you and all that jazz.

Thank you to: tfobmv18, Jade2099, not important, and JRRTFrk for reviewing

**Chapter 22: It's Going to be Alright **

**Draco: **

The next few weeks were absolutely gruelling. Though in the past I had been absent for far longer than a month in empty psychosis, this had been a year in which I had actually decided to over commit myself at work. Soon, they had began to depend on me, my actual presence at the office. And I, being the idiot who fell madly in love with a curly haired Gryffindor, thought all the empty days were behind me.

It was a really stupid thing to have done. The more that I remembered over the weeks that followed, the flashbacks that wormed their way into my consciousness, all made me guiltier than I'd ever been before. To have done that to someone as trusting as Hermione didn't sit well with my already overburdened conscience.

So, slowly, I tried to make amends.

This unfortunately meant seeing a mediwitch on the psychotherapy floor at the General New York Witches and Wizards Medical Treatment Centre. The GMTC. For most people, the crazy bureaucracies, uncaring doctors, screaming from floors you'd probably never heard of – and of course... the crazies that needed "rehabilitating", was a complete nightmare.

For me, it was penance.

My first appointment with my mediwitch on the 6th floor of a very intimidating building was on a Saturday. The skies had been an overbearing grey, almost smelling of rain, but the clouds had held back on us that morning. Hermione had offered to come with me, but I had declined. This wa something I'd have to do alone. I'd already subjected her to enough misery.

So, I let her kiss me off on my way from the entrance of our (her) apartment. That was how I found myself standing outside a heavy wooden door of my soon to be therapist, too afraid to knock.

My appointment time came and went, ticking away on my wristwatch. I knew if I didn't work up the courage to knock soon I'd be in deep shit. I had promised Hermione and myself that I'd do this. It was for my own good... Wasn't the first step to therapy admitting that you need help?

_Come on, Draco. You can do it_, I coached myself in my head.

_I CAN'T DO IT. You know how these people are... they don't fucking care. Run, run while you can! _

_You're talking to yourself, idiot. You need help. _

"This is _nonsense," _I muttered to myself when five minutes had passed. It would be fine. Hermione had said it would be fine. So I raised my hand and knocked.

"Come in," I heard, immediately. Taking in a deep breath and wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue, I opened the door and stopped right in my tracks. I couldn't believe my eyes. After all these years... who knew how long the past would come to haunt me? As if God, the fates, whatever the fuck was up there – Merlin? – hadn't fucked with me enough over the years!

It was Looney fucking Lovegood sitting behind a desk that was much too big for her.

"I...I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong room. Um... Sorry about that." Mentally slapping myself on the head for being so idiotic – I mean, Malfoys never say _um! _– I made my way to move out and shut the door when she gestured for me to stop. It was more of an uncaring wave of her hand than anything else.

"Have a seat Mr. Sebastian Dominique. Or do you prefer Draco Malfoy?" She smiled at my expression. Her voice was serene, almost calming, but mostly it just unsettled me. Her gaze penetrated right through my body as if I were not really there. Oddly, it reminded me of Dumbledore.

I hadn't paid much attention to her back at Hogwarts, but now, in this most unusual setting, I realized she had the strangest blue eyes. Piercing, yet distant all at the same time. Her hair and stature had stayed the same, though. Long, wavy white blonde hair I remembered clearly, on a very small girl. Though I suppose she was much more a woman now...

"Don't worry," she said, startling me out of my observations. "Everything is confidential, of course. I, personally, have no aims to out your true identity to the American people."

Well... what was I _suppose _to say to that? Thanks for keeping my secret safe? I felt like I was a fucking superhero caught red handed. Batman? Spiderman? Well, I suppose in this scenario, I'd be more of the villain. Instead of acting like an unmasked perpetrator, I just nodded mutely. She smiled in her calm way but it didn't ease my nervousness. It only made me want to leave. I couldn't talk to her about..._things! _She had been a prisoner in my goddamn dungeons!

"I have your files here from all your previous therapists. It seems you haven't been very cooperative or...consistent with your therapy over the past few years when your particular symptoms developed," she said, pausing as if to assess my reaction. "Would you like to tell me what they are?"

I stared at her for a moment, blankly. Would I like to tell Luna Lovegood that I couldn't handle what the war did to me, so I pushed it all away to the back of my mind? "No," I said, bluntly. She didn't seem to be phased at my short answer. I paused, trying to come up with how to get out of this awkward situation. Finally, I decided on, "I don't think...that this is very appropriate."

She looked up from my file and nodded at me. "I had a suspicion that you would think that." Her smile, that irritatingly serene smile, seemed to be permanently plastered to her face and it was annoying me. Didn't she _understand? _How was I meant to get into things of the past with this person? She had been there. She should have known better.

I stood up. "You knew who I was. You should have deferred me to a person who can actually treat me. This was a mistake," I finished. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Ms. Lovegood."

When my hand touched the door knob of her obscenely heavy office door, she spoke up, "Everyone has suffered from the war, Mr. Malfoy, some more than others. What happened to you, me and everyone else couldn't have been helped." I sighed, turned the knob and made my way out. I didn't need her to tell me what happened was out of my control. That was the issue. It shouldn't have been out of my control. I should have been able to say: _no, fuck you, I don't believe in this bullshit! _

But I hadn't.

"I can see that you are in pain, Draco," she called after me. I stopped to listen. "I can help ease that pain, if you are interested." I didn't have anything to say to that, not that it was unusual to be tongue tied. What was she suggesting, that I just open up and put everything onto her tiny lap? "I know you're interested. You asked for the best healer on staff."

So I did the only thing I could have done in such a situation. I turned around to face her, inclined my head and made to leave.

"See you next Saturday!" she called after me in a cheery voice. As if she'd fucking _won_ or something.

The bloody blonde was obscene!

I practically ran out of the building, not that it was easy. Finding my way out of the labyrinths of corridors was no easy feat, but eventually I managed. When I pushed my way through the huge metal doors of the dreary stone grey building, I took in gulps of fresh air. Well, as fresh as New York can be with all that smog.

It had been suffocating in there... or perhaps I had just forgotten to breathe with all of the tension around me. Either way, I stood there taking in huge gulps of air as if my life depended on it. I was slightly dizzy, even a little nauseas. How was I going to do this every week? Shivering, I leaned against a stone railing, closing my eyes. Even here the air felt heavy.

"Draco?"

A pair of arms made their way around my waist and I didn't need to open my eyes to know that Hermione had come to make sure I was okay. It made my heart clench. After all I'd done to this woman, here she was...

"What are you doing here?" I finally asked when I could trust myself to speak normally. "I thought you were going to read... You didn't need to come. I'm fine, really," I assured her, but all the same I held her tighter to me not even daring to open my eyes in case I found that she wasn't actually really there. Now _that _would be messed up, wouldn't it?

"You shouldn't have to do this alone, Draco," she said to me.

And it was true, I realized. I wasn't alone anymore. She hadn't left even _after _all I'd done to her, so perhaps there was hope. And so, as it finally started raining, drenching us to the core, I couldn't help but feel as if I'd been given a brilliant second chance. And as we made our way back home, it felt as though the rain wasn't just washing away grime off the city streets, but also some of my sins.

Maybe it really _was _going to be alright.

**Hermione: 2 weeks later **

While things with Draco were slowly improving (in truth, we had never been closer than we were now), things at the ministry were at their all time low. It had never been worse for me, not in England and definitely not here. It had even been better when I used to be a British nobody, transferred to the New York ministry.

But now, it was as if there was a price on my head.

Work had always been pretty useless. I hadn't ever had much of a real job to do. But now, the tasks became even _more _fruitless and in part, this was because of the gossip that had spread. People had noticed that Zara and I had a falling out. Whether this was because of their own observations or because of rumours that she or her little friends (that she had acquired out of my fame) spread, I didn't know. It was probably a little bit of both.

We no longer ate lunch together and she blatantly ignored me in the hallways. If she saw me, she turned and walked the other way with a clear expression of disgust on her face. On one occasion that this had happened, her ex husband had been present. His smirk had been so broad; he could've resembled a Cheshire cat.

It was what he had wanted all along.

I had no friends at the ministry and anyone that _did _associate with me really only wanted some favour or another that I could grant. But even my reach at the ministry was fading. Rumours had spread that Draco and I weren't going to be together much longer and therefore – I wouldn't have much use left anymore. People said that his interest from me had wandered ("What did he even see in her in the first place?") and that he was practically already in the market. Line up, ladies!

It was obviously bullshit, but it still hurt. When I told Draco about these occurrences he would act shocked and try everything in his power to make me laugh. I knew he wouldn't leave me for a blonde bimbo... but every girl wonders. Does he _really _love me? He could practically have any girl in the world. Why choose _me? _It's not even as if I'm all that pretty or going anywhere special in life like everyone thought I would.

It was on a really sunny but cold Thursday that I found myself doing groceries with Draco. It was on these occasions that I felt comfortable to say that I actually had a proper boyfriend. It was comfortable. It was also one of the things we had started to do together for no reason in particular. Besides, if I'd let him do it alone we'd be eating cake and boloney sandwiches for an entire week.

_Men. _

In the fruit section, he was contemplating the freshness of a pile of apples when I suddenly realized I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't deserve to suffer something so stupid. I deserved to be happy!

"Draco, I can't _do _this anymore!" He looked up a little surprised. He wasn't the only one. I'd been a little louder than I had intended... Blushing, I pulled him away from the apples.

"Do...what exactly?" he asked, nervously. I felt bad for startling him. "We can do the groceries another day if you like..."

I shook my head. "Not this."

"Then what? Is it me?" He stood there, clearly concerned and scratching his head in the most adorable way possible that I couldn't help but laugh. "What?"

"No... I was talking about the ministry. It's too much. I will _not _be ostracized!" I said, stomping my foot indignantly. When he laughed at me, I stuck my tongue out at him and went to pick up a loaf of bread. "And for laughing, _you _get to carry the bags all by yourself, darling."

"I'm glad you're quitting," he said to me when I came back to put the bread into our trolley. "It's always been a horrible job, I've told you."

That stopped me. _Quitting_? That thought hadn't occurred to me. I couldn't just quit..."I can't just quit!"

He looked at me oddly. "Then what were you suggesting?" I didn't know what I was suggesting and he seemed to sense that. "You shouldn't have to put up with a job that you don't like, love. Like me, for example. All the things that I _don't _want to do are done by other people." He laughed again when I rolled my eyes and kissed my cheek before moving on to another isle.

I hurried after him. "But... I can't not just work anymore."

"Hm? You can get a new job," he said a little distractedly. "Hey, do we have jelly?"

I nodded. "But then where will I work?"

He shrugged. "If all else fails, you can always come work with me," he suggested.

And thus, on an unremarkable Thursday afternoon, Draco Malfoy had convinced me to get a move on in my life. I was no longer going to work at the Ministry of Magic. After all this time, who knew it'd only take a slight push from a blond ferret?

Go figure.

/

That Friday was my last day at the ministry. I gave in my resignation, cleared out my desk, finished the last few meaningless tasks that were left and I was done for the day before lunch had even rolled around.

I hadn't told anyone that I was leaving but the news had still managed to spread somehow. A few people came to say goodbye, most of them took it as a sign that my career and life with Draco were probably finished. I just dealt with them all with the biggest genuine smile I could muster.

And since I was leaving it was a big fucking smile, indeed.

The one thing I had been postponing was facing Zara and saying goodbye to her. I knew she had said that she never wanted to speak to me again, and she had made it clear that she was willing to go to any lengths to keep it that way, but she had made my year in New York bearable. She had been there before Draco. I owed it to her.

It happened by accident. I had been in the loo after lunch when I heard her and another girl walk in. They spoke of mundane things until I popped up in the conversation. That, of course, was inevitable. I was the talk of this place, unfortunately.

"So, did you hear that tramp was leaving?" said the girl. Insipid bitch.

"Who?" asked Zara.

"You know who. Granger." There was a pause. Perhaps it was just me but it felt like a very _awkward _pause. "Aren't you glad and all?" the girl asked, obviously trying to break the silence. "Now the bitch can't mess up your life anymore-"

"Excuse me," Zara interrupted. "You're just being really rude, right now. So maybe I'll see you after I'm done working, okay?" But I knew Zara. I knew that tone of voice. She would probably never speak to that girl ever again and somewhere in my heart, I felt hope that she was still my friend.

"Um... okay..." said the girl. Eventually, I heard the door close, and I just hoped it wasn't Zara that had left. I heard a sigh and decided that it was going to be now or never. So, barring myself for the confrontation, I opened the stall door.

Zara was standing there, staring at herself blankly in the mirror. When she caught my reflection, I saw shock filter over her features. "Erm...Hi," I started. It was better than nothing, right? Zara just nodded.

"So it's true that you're leaving?" This time _I _just nodded.

She ignored me for the longest time. It was clear that she was waiting for me to say something. I leaned against the counter, looking at her, but she refused to look back at me, opting instead to stare at me through the mirror. "I'm sorry, Zara."

"I don't want to hear it," she said, immediately. I nodded, again. I could respect that.

"I just wanted you to know it," I told her. "You were really good to me and I want you to know that I will miss you. Thank you, Zara. You're a really good friend." She wouldn't look at me, of course, that much I had already discerned, but she couldn't hide the fact that she was crying. "Goodbye, Zara." And with that, I left.

When I came home and found Draco sprawled over my couch, waiting for me with dinner. I knew that even though Zara would probably never talk to me again and that I'd be starting a new chapter of my life soon, everything was going to be okay.

It's going to be alright.

A/N: Unsigned Reviews

**Jade2099: **Lucidity indeed! I'm so sorry for making you cry! Really, I am. But I'm glad I'm good enough to invoke such a strong emotion from my readers. While it's unhealthy for Draco and Hermione to be together, it's probably the healthiest relationship they'll ever find together if you know what I mean? No one else can fulfill either one of them to the extent that they do each other. And in the future there will be a higher purpose for them to be together, so stay tuned! I'm glad you enjoyed.

**Not Important: **I'm always glad to know that people are reading but at the same time utterly sad that so many people don't like interacting with authors. But it's okay! Whatever floats your boat. Thank you for reading. : )


	23. Dreams and Bingle Whips

A/N: You guys are so, so, so supportive it almost makes me want to cry. But I won't. Instead, I'll give you a really fast update (which is this). Another one comes out on Saturday! Let me know what you think. I really hope you like it. Love you all!

Thank you to: Jade2099, mangokake, BlackBloodedMagic, tfobmv18, Alexybath, Diamondreamer and my Anonymous reviewer for reviewing and being so nice to me.

To all of those who are reading and not reviewing: Hello. I hope you're enjoying.

**Chapter 23: Dreams and Bingle Whips **

**Hermione: **

In light of my fresh start at life, I decided it was time to deal with my actual fate. I had put off dealing with the prophecy I'd found out about in London for much too long. Much, much too long. It was Draco's fault, really... he'd put me off track, first with the sex and then with complete abandonment.

_Men! _

The problem was, I didn't know how to get back to the dream world. Despite the fact that Tom Riddle's parting words "_Come visit me_" still haunted my brain every once in a while, the bugger hadn't mentioned _how _I could come and see him again. Honestly, if he had, I probably would've gone there a dozen times already. Not that I was...eager or anything.

At first, I attempted clearing my mind and all that nonsense, during the day and night, but no dream world. I tried motivating my mind to go into the dream world before falling asleep and waking up frustrated because I hadn't managed it. I took potions to stimulate my mind during the night – but nothing. Not that I expected taking drugs would work.

Frankly, it was exhausting. What did he want me to do? Stop everything in my life and just focus on him and _his _needs? I suppose I was being unreasonable and all, but I had a life too and I had to live it. Certainly that had priority as well. I mean, now that I actually had to look for a job... well, it certainly wasn't that easy. Especially one that I actually would enjoy working at. In the end, I supposed it was inevitable that I accept Draco's help.

It's what was meant to be, I could almost feel it in my bones!

Alright, I lied. I was just desperate for a job, really, and he was offering. I have no morals and a shattered soul, yeah, yeah. You can all throw your eggs at me now.

Eventually, I stopped trying so hard to get to my dream world. It didn't seem worth the effort, no matter how scary it had sounded at the time. Now, it was merely a distant memory I had seen in a haze of pain and drugs. It probably wasn't real anyways. I'd probably imagined it all. So what if I had a few incidents that were somewhat similar? Things happen, right? It was a coincidence.

Then one night everything changed.

On the cusp of unconsciousness, I sleepily thought – _Take me to Tom Riddle, now, please _– and when I felt myself finally drop into that blissful unconsciousness that is sleep, all was black and peaceful like it should have been.

Except it wasn't.

I was in a bed with very soft sheets. The bed wasn't mine, neither was the pillow under my head. I was aware of all of this, but too comfortable and sleepy to get up. There was a light breeze flowing in from a window. I knew I wasn't in my room anymore, because I hadn't left the window open. And besides, New York does not smell this clean. In fact, my street sort of smells like Chinese food at the night...

"I'm rather sure you haven't been invited here to _sleep_," said a voice next to me. I could hear the smirk before I even opened my eyes and already I wanted to slap it off his face. Opening my eyes and staring at the spot on the bed next to me, I found Tom Riddle splayed. And yes, he was smirking.

But he was also shirtless.

"Go away," I grumbled, turning away from him and burrowing deeper into the pillows and blankets. "And make yourself decent next time you want to talk to a girl in her sleep!" He only chuckled that irritatingly attractive chuckle. He was dead, I had to remind myself. I couldn't go destroy his body...

"I wouldn't have been shirtless if your mind hadn't demanded it of me." What the... _fuck! _I sat up straight staring at him in alarm.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

He laughed. Tom Riddle actually _laughed _at me. "Only that your mind...wants to see me like this," he said, gesturing to his nude torso with his amazingly long and delicious looking fingers.

"That can't be, I was planning on dreaming about my hot boyfriend," I responded as indignantly as I could. With such perfect timing, the door to the room we were in opened and in walked Draco. Well, dream Draco. He was clad in only a towel.

"See!" I exclaimed in glee, grinning at Tom who had a slightly dejected look on his face. I got out of bed and literally jumped on Draco, I was that glad he had saved me from embarrassing myself in front of Tom. When I kissed him full on the mouth for being such a lovely person, I heard a forced cough from behind me.

"Alright, that's enough! We have work to do."

I just shrugged. Soon, I found myself sitting in my old desk in Professor McGonagall's transfiguration classroom. Tom was leaning against her desk, staring at me with interest. He said nothing. Why was it that everyone expected me to start conversations these days?

"So..." I ventured.

He grinned. "Right!" His grin only widened when I rolled my eyes. "You did quite the job managing to come back here with such little effort. Quite the feat." And here he was _complimenting _me.

"But...I took months to come back," I said, slightly ashamed of myself for not giving this priority.

He smirked, again. "You weren't really trying all those months, were you?" Point one for Riddle. I suppose this was payback for getting Draco to come see me nearly naked. Hmm... perhaps I could get him to come see me nearly naked in _real _life. That would be very pleasurable...and no Tom Riddle to interrupt. "Your thoughts are wandering, Hermione," he said, right on cue.

Well, fuck him. I can think about my boyfriend in any state of dress, or undress, _whenever I want to! _Tom Riddle or no Tom Riddle. Regardless, I attempted to pay attention to him.

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. "If you are quite _finished_. The prophecy has progressed faster than I thought it would through all of these months that you've been gone." I nodded a little hesitantly this time. It _had _progressed.

Then the man threw me for a bender. "Do you trust me?"

I thought hard for a minute. "No, of course not."

He seemed affronted but I just shrugged. "Well, why the hell not?" he asked. When I raised my eyebrow, he grinned sheepishly. "Besides the whole mass murder thing, of course..."

"Besides the whole mass murder thing!" I scoffed.

"Yes, yes. Well, if you _trust _me, you need to tell me the details of the prophecy. What was told to you and what you gathered that day in the library. Otherwise, you'll have to manage this on your own. Or perhaps find someone else willing to help you – which, considering who you are, will probably be many," he finished, looking a bit sullen at the proposition.

"You mean, I can have someone _other _than you guide me?" He nodded and I considered. "Like who?"

"Dumbledore," he immediately muttered, vehemently. I only grinned because I knew how much he hated my old headmaster. "Though I suggest you not ask for him," he continued, quickly.

"Why? Did you have some bet with Dumbledore, or something?"

"Well, yes. But he's also very vague. Doesn't give his charges much help, does he? At least I can form sentences without being _cryptic_, for God's sake!" This I could really agree with. I respected Dumbledore and all...but come on. The Beadle and the Bard will haunt me for the rest of my life. Vague fucking indeed! "And you certainly don't want to call on any of the Founders, or any writer in general, really... They _really _like to meddle." Founders... writers? Miranda Goshawk? He just nodded as if he knew what I was thinking.

Suddenly, I realized that because of who he was, he probably hadn't had many actual people to communicate with. Or at least, no one pleasant. "Am I the first... you know. Person you've helped since you got here?" He just shrugged.

I don't know if it was pity or if I temporarily lost my sanity, but I decided it was probably best that I keep Riddle around to help me. If my subconscious had thought it best that _he _be the person to choose, then so be it. My subconscious or conscious hadn't been wrong as of yet. I wasn't about to mistrust it now. Besides, he was rather... a genius, despite being a crazy mass murderer. If only Dumbledore was better than you... well, you had it going on!

Then again, he _had _been stumped by a baby.

"I saw a few visions and some of them have already happened... and then you told me the prophecy, I believe. After. When I was just about to leave," I said. He stared at me as if I was stupid, or something close to it. "What?" I finally asked.

"I already knew that. You're going to have to be specific... Are you _really _what passes for the smartest witch of your age these days? The lot really must be _stupid!" _

Glaring, I was already reconsidering keeping the fucker around. Vague or not, at least Dumbledore knew how to respect people! As if sensing my anger (not that it was all that hidden, really), he smiled a little guiltily, apologized and gestured for me to be more specific.

"_Well_. I saw me walking down a street completely plastered, I saw my parents and I saw Draco and I. All of which already happened... Then I saw Draco writing something and he was quite angry about it, I saw two kids playing in a sandbox, I saw myself running away from something really bad and I was rather scared... I saw a fire and a man burning and then I saw myself and Draco lying in the rain."

"Was that all? That doesn't sound so bad, really...rather unremarkable, in fact," he almost seemed relieved on my behalf.

"No," I said.

"No?"

"No...I... saw myself dying. At the end... I was bleeding pretty badly..." An uncomfortable silence followed. He scratched his head and it painfully reminded me of Draco. I wanted to cry. No, I wanted to get out of this dream world and curl up against Draco.

"Oh," Riddle finally said. I just shrugged. "It's going to be okay, though." I could immediately tell he was trying to make it seem alright.

"Everyone dies eventually, Riddle. Look at you," I gestured. He cringed. I admit, it was probably a rude thing to say, but we were talking about _my death _here... so I suppose I felt entitled to it.

"What was the prophecy?" he finally asked after a moment.

"What, don't you remember?" I asked stupidly. To be honest, I was still a bit shaken up from reliving my death... that hadn't happened yet. It was quite a strange experience if truth be told.

But for once, he didn't poke fun at me or my diminishing intelligence. Apparently the concept of death was no joking matter, certainly not to Tom Riddle. "I, like any seer, as that is the function I had been playing, would not recall any true prophecy I had channelled from this world to you."

"Right," I nodded and then began to recite.

"_You were brought here for a reason. That, which you have been given is for your fate to be decided in your hands, to show the man of identity that is challenged that the good must be put on his shoulders, from his to yours. Heed wisely, you shall learn that you are the vessel of fate, born for this purpose and happiness shall not be short lived. Heed and all shall be well." _

He stared at me blankly. "Once more, please," he asked, a little more politely than necessary. I nodded and repeated while he listened intently.

We sat there in silence for a while and unsure if I ought to even bother speaking. Eventually, I plucked up enough courage to open my mouth. "What do you think?" I asked.

"I think," he said, slowly, "that we have a lot of work to do."

**Draco: **

Psychotherapy, it turns out, is very intense work. Not only am I learning how to deal with my repressed issues, I'm learning to do it with a creepy blonde little thing that really should not classify as human. Well, alright, that was exaggeration. She was most certainly _human. _But that's all she has in common with everything else that is normal.

But what would I know about normal, right? I was the one getting therapy in the first place.

I, of course, was not allowed to ask her questions that were not related to my actual treatment. So I didn't know what she was doing in New York or how she came to occupy such a prestigious position. After the war, I hadn't really kept in touch with anyone from back home and I certainly hadn't deigned it important enough to keep track of where they went or what they did. So I wouldn't know why she was here or when she had come.

I'm not sure why I felt morally obliged to find out.

Luna said this was a character flaw I should really work on fixing or the Bingle Whips in my brain will eventually take complete control of my body. I'm not sure if she's joking and I really don't know what _Bingle Whips _are... but I still make myself go to her wretched office in her wretched building every Saturday.

Despite her complete unorthodox way of treating my issues, I certainly was feeling a lot better. I have a feeling though this has more to do with the potions she prescribed to me rather than the actual therapy in itself. Though, thinking about it more clearly, the potions made it bearable to _go _to therapy... so, perhaps it was a circle?

Whatever it was, it was definitely working.

I cannot say I was happy in those weeks while adjusting to reliving and accepting my issues, but I no longer wished to repress them. Yes, I would suddenly disappear for a while each day to an abandoned washroom because I could not hold back tears any longer, but at least the memories did not want to make me blank. Or worse, kill myself.

She made me question my own guilt and the reasons I found myself guilty to begin with. Was I really at fault? Or was it a mass murdering psycho who had done all those things? I had to accept the fact that the events would have taken place exactly as they had even if I were not there. I had come to accept the fact that not all of it was my fault.

I didn't deserve to die. Not yet, anyways.

It was difficult, it was gruelling and it was so painful that sometimes I didn't want to get out of bed for days. But I was persevering. It was real slow progress, but I was going somewhere. And Hermione was _not _going to settle for the short end of the stick, this time. Things were definitely looking up.

When you're at the bottom, the only place to go is up. So that's where I'd go.

But seriously? Luna Lovegood is bat shit crazy.

A/N: Unsigned Reviews

**Jade2099: **I completely agree with you. :) You are so very insightful. I agree about Hermione about the mental therapy, wholeheartedly. Who knows, maybe Luna can snag her in too! Thank you for reading so faithfully!

**Alexybath: **I adore Luna too, she's quite the doll. And rather strange. I added a bit of crazy Luna in this chapter for you. Hoped you enjoyed!

**Diamondreamer: **Thank you for your double review. You're very sweet and you should know that reviews like yours are recognition enough.

**To the anonymous reviewer who likes it when I swear: **I'm glad you think it's rich vocabulary! Much more of it to come (wink wink). Your review made me laugh and I'm very glad that you liked it. Enjoy! Try to leave a name for me next time so I know how to address you, though, if you don't mind. :)


	24. Riddles and Riddle

A/n: As promised, here is the next chapter. I will be updating every weekend from now on until the end of the story. (This story will have 40 chapters). Thank you all for reading!

Thank you to: Alexybath and JRRTFrk (x4) for reviewing. You two are amazing dolls, cookies for you!

**Chapter 24: Riddles and Riddle **

**Hermione: **

Over the course of just a few weeks, my life had miraculously changed. I had gone from overly happy to utterly depressed, to jobless then madly in love and working more than I had worked since during the war, if truth was to be told.

When Draco said he'll get you a job, he wasn't kidding around like the ministry arseholes who just wanted another desk to fill and another intern to fetch coffee. No, he actually gave you work and paid you what you're worth.

Granted, I had to convince him to actually _lower _my salary because he was being utterly ridiculous with the "what you're worth" idea... but all in all, it was the most desirable situation I'd been in my entire life. Yes, I mean my _entire life. _This is what I'd worked my arse off for. The man, the job and the sex. Not that I'd fantasized about sex as a kid. God no! I used to be rather naive.

Or... I think they call it innocent these days.

I had two forms of employment because the man knew I needed a good push in work ethic. First, I was put in charge of "muggle relations" for all of his existing companies (and for all of those that were soon to be opened). It sounds like quite a flashy, complicated job, but it really rather isn't. _Basically, _it was my job to show America and the rest of the world that Sebastian Dominique/Draco Malfoy was promoting the welfare of muggles and their way of life. But we weren't stopping there. Oh no. We were attempting to get the rest of the wizarding community to start embracing the muggle way of doing things.

To Draco, this was the _ultimate _goal he wanted to achieve. It was the most important thing in his life (besides me, he said rather convincingly) and he had put me in charge of it.

The job was one of great responsibility and one that would not easily be done. There were many witches and wizards who still held prejudiced views of muggles – And America hadn't even had a war over it yet! – their welfare was not highly promoted at the corporation level.

Draco was attempting to change this, of course, having been through a war himself and witnessing such awful things... It had become his ambition towards protecting not only the wizarding community's secret but integrating both societies to function as one. It was rather genius, actually, and I was proud of him.

The man was regarded as a revolutionary.

Because really – using _pens _and laptops at home was one thing, but at work? Insanity! Of course witches and wizards were aware of muggle technology and all its uses, but it was a complete faux pas to actually take a part in such practices where other people could see you in public. Draco had introduced a new way of life, almost, and a lot of people were against him.

For me, this meant dealing with howlers, angry people, pureblood extremists, old ladies with pearls in general... You'd think I'd stepped into public relations all over again like my old job at the ministry, except this time I had actual work to do. It was relieving and terrifying at the same time. I hadn't had an important job in years. I hadn't had an actual important job since I'd been out searching for horcruxes.

While I highly respected this job and certainly enjoyed finally having something proper to stress over, I enjoyed the bonus job he'd gotten me as well. He had made it so that I worked part time, completely home based, as an editor in the publishing house he was affiliated with due to his literary accomplishments. It was my dream come true.

Living in New York City, check.

Running in central park, check.

Editor, check!

My life was officially complete. I could die happy. Who _wouldn't _like this kind of job? Paid to read and run my mouth off about what I thought about it... it _was_ my dream come true.

The funny thing was that it seemed as if Draco knew that this was exactly what I'd need. I hadn't even had to ask him. He just... did it. Who says men don't have intuition? I don't think I could love a man more than I love Draco Malfoy.

And it's not just because of my paycheque, honey.

/

"You're not thinking hard enough."

I sighed. I was sitting on the ledge of the highest Astronomy Tower. Coming to the dream world had become a daily occurrence and it was beginning to be a bit of a drag. Tom Riddle did not know how to play nice. Oh, of course he'd tried when he was afraid I'd give him up for his arch-nemesis, Dumbledore! But when that fear had faded, so had his poor attempts to be nice.

The man certainly was the definition of arrogance.

"Well then what do _you _think?" I asked him, rather annoyed and about to leave.

"_I _think," the self important bastard continued, "that we've narrowed the second member of the prophecy down to the Malfoy boy. _Why _you're smitten with such a creature is beyond me –"

"Hey! No insulting the boyfriend!"

"Oh, very well. It's clear that the Neanderthal is part of the prophecy too -"

"I'm warning you, Riddle!"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, you can't honestly blame me. You're associating yourself with a specimen of inbreeding. Am I meant to ignore that?" The bastard had the shame to grin at my mortified expression.

"That's it! I've had enough out of you, you son of a bitch!" His eyes widened and I managed to snag a glance of the horrified expression on his face before I closed my eyes and concentrated. I heard him apologize loudly, probably to save his sorry arse, but he had pissed me off far too much for his own good. When I opened my eyes I found myself and a very grumpy Slytherin in the dungeons.

Ah, yes. The perks of being in a dream based world.

To be precise, we were now in my old potions classroom and at the very front of the room sat Professor Snape at his rightful place behind his old desk. I had never known Professor Snape to be so easily amused in life, but in death...or limbo, whatever this place was – he took quite a lot of pleasure out of watching a younger version of the Dark Lord suffering under my hands.

"Hello, Professor Snape," I greeted him cheerily.

"Hello, Ms. Granger." He inclined his head towards us. "Back again? Has Mr. Riddle been misbehaving?" he asked as if he were talking about a little toddler who'd been troublemaking.

"Indeed, he has!" I laughed. I knew how much it pissed him off to be talked about as if he wasn't even in the room. "He's been a very naughty little boy. Whatever shall I do with him?" I sighed, exaggerating the movement. Snape smirked evilly and I couldn't help but laugh a little louder.

"Yes, yes, very _funny_!" Riddle exclaimed.

"Oh good, I was beginning to think you didn't have a sense of humour. It _is _quite funny." Riddle actually _pouted. _Even though the look on him was mouth watering, the action in itself was too surreal to even comprehend. So I did what I do best. In situations you can't understand, can't analyze, can't do anything with really – ignore, and continue as if it's not there at all.

Unless it's trying to kill you.

Yes, Draco had taught me well.

Professor Snape left us in the room when we finally began to work again. "Yes, I agree. Draco is the second party... and that I was meant to be with him," I quickly added. This part of the prophecy I really enjoyed. I wasn't with Draco because of any old reason. We were _meant _to be together. Just what a girl wants to hear.

"Yes, but only because you have to carry out some plan of fate," he was just as quick to point out. I sighed. Riddle didn't seem to like Malfoy all that much. It was actually really surprising. Why should Riddle have anything against Draco? He had ruled the family through three generations, after all. Perhaps he and Abraxas Malfoy had had a tiff? Or perhaps he didn't like them in general... It was too difficult to discern without more information and I certainly was not going to go venturing in Voldemort's past again.

I'd done enough of that to last me a lifetime.

"The man of identity that is challenged and the good is to be put on _his _shoulders... good from my shoulder to his shoulder. So I guess... I need to teach him to be good?" Riddle just shrugged and I slapped my forehead. This was going _nowhere! _

"I'm going!" I shouted at him, completely exasperated. I had reached my limit for annoyance today. Before he could say anything else I had gone away, back to the real world. There I lay, next to Draco in bed. He was snuggled against my side with his face gently resting against my neck. I gently stroked his hair, willing proper sleep to come back to me.

And soon, that came too.

/

"Another one of the visions came true today," I groaned, dejectedly. Tom and I were sitting in the great hall at the Slytherin table. He wouldn't have it any other way and I had been far too tired to object.

It had been a long, long day.

"What happened?" he asked in a voice that _almost _came close to sympathy. But hell, I was low enough even to accept his pathetic attempts at being nice.

/

_I had made my way to Draco's office during my lunch hour to see if he'd come eat with me. All in all it had been quite a lovely day, so far. I had made progress in a novel that I was editing, I had had three successful meetings today already and I was scheduled to work on a proposal to stop the testing of magical products in the muggle world on muggles after lunch. _

_I really loved making progress to the point where it could be called addiction. I suppose everyone has their own flaws, right? _

_The door had been wide open and his secretary had gone to lunch too, apparently. I decided I would surprise him, so I quietly made my way into his office, attempting to be quiet but probably failed. In other words, he would have caught me if he hadn't been so engrossed in his work. _

_There he was, sitting behind his perfectly majestic desk looking absolutely gorgeous. Smiling, I was about to walk in when something about the scene struck me as frightful. And then I realized it. _

_Draco was sitting at a desk, writing and looking utterly frustrated. It was my vision, I knew it immediately. Panic started to fill my veins. Four visions had passed. I was going to come to my death soon. Forget the fact that I had no clue what the prophecy meant. I was going to die and then no more Draco, no more job...no more anything! _

_I was about to leave and have my panic attack in privacy when Draco looked up and found me staring at him on the verge of hyperventilating. Of course, he didn't immediately notice the signs and I was grateful. It bought me some time to compose myself. _

_All signs of his frustration had melted. "Hello, love," he called to me, gesturing for me to come inside. I stepped in and made my way to sit in one of the empty chairs before his desk. _

"_What were you doing? You looked put out when I walked in... I'm not disturbing anything, am I?" _

_He shook his head. "No, I was just working on my novel... it's just not going as well as I expected, you know?" I nodded. "Is there something wrong?" he asked. He reached over his desk to brush a stray lock of hair off of my face. _

"_No, nothing. I just came to see if you wanted to have lunch." He smiled and I almost felt bad for lying. I couldn't tell him about this, yet. This dream world stuff or the fact that maybe sometime in the near future I was about to die and leave him to fend for himself was too much for him to handle with everything that was going on. The time just wasn't right. But then again, the time might never be right. I felt so alone at that point, so scared and lonely that all I wanted to do was go around that desk, sit in his lap and sob it all out. But I restrained myself, if only just barely. _

_Before he could answer I interjected. "But that's alright. You rarely get time to work on your novel anymore, and I know your editor Ella personally now. She hates you and your sporadic drafts. I'll see you at home?" I asked, getting up and making my way to the door. _

_He nodded again, smiling. "You know you will." _

_Instead of kissing him – which I wasn't ready for in the midst of my panic attack – I blew him a kiss from the door, hoping he wouldn't find anything wrong with my behaviour. Then, when I was sure I was out of sight, I ran to the safest broom closet I could think of and stayed there for half an hour until a janitor found me cowering in the dark amidst spiders and mops. _

/

"You actually hid in a broom closet?" Riddle was laughing at me again.

"Grow up, you arse. I wouldn't laugh if you did something like that! I was having a panic attack, what was I _supposed _to do?" I crossed my arms hoping he'd get the message that I wanted him to fuck off and die. Except for one little problem, of course. He was already dead.

Well, hey. Wish granted.

"You could have gone home," he suggested. "Or to your very empty office?" The fucker had a point and it really annoyed the hell out of me. Why did he _always _have to be right about _everything? _

"And I could've picked Dumbledore to help me, can we get on with it?" He sighed and then I sighed. We both decided to ignore each other and stare in opposite directions. It was childish, stupid and a whole lot of waste of time but I could be stubborn too.

"Alright," he finally assented. "Let's get on with it."

"Great!" I said, suddenly cheered. It wasn't everyday that you could win in a battle of...well anything, with Tom Riddle. He simply _had _to be the best of the best, no doubt about it. Major ego complex, you see, and if he hadn't been able to fix it in life – he sure as hell was not going to be able to fix it in death.

I found him staring at me, suddenly, in such a piercing gaze that I was immediately uncomfortable. It was as if he were stripping me to the bone until I was laid completely bare for him to see. Trust me, it's not a pleasant feeling, _especially _when it's a former dark lord doing it to you.

I cleared my throat eventually, and he seemed to snap out of it, as if he'd been in a daze. "My apologies," he said in a tone that was too formal to question. "I seem to have gotten off track." Well, yes. If by off track he meant staring at me inappropriately, then he was way off track. "Where shall we continue today?"

And so, I spent another fruitless night in the dream world, attempting to decipher a prophecy and my future with Lord Voldemort as my companion. It was surreal as fuck – but I was taking any help I could get.

Maybe just maybe together we were cunning enough to manage.

Or you know, fail and then die a miserable and painful death. But you know, either way...

A/N: Unsigned Reviews

**Alexybath: **I'm glad you enjoyed the Luna reference, it was thrown in especially for you because you're such a dedicated reviewer. Hope you enjoyed the Tom Riddle portion of this chapter as well. See you next week!


	25. Surprise and Disdain

A/N: So a few of you quite nicely pointed out that this story seems to randomly be taking a new direction. I promise you – there is a reason for everything that happens and in the end (hopefully) you'll see how it all connects. Thank you all so much for reviewing. Did you know there are over a THOUSAND PEOPLE READING THIS? Shocking. I'm so proud.

So – Hello! Don't be shy, drop a review, or two, or a thousand. I will reply to ALL of them. : )

Thank you to: neojedigoddess, semantics, Kuro Yuki Valkyrie, JRRTFrk, tfobmv18, mangokake, Alexybath and Werewolf Fanatic89 for reviewing.

**Chapter 25: Surprises and Disdain **

**Hermione: **

Things had been inching along for me since the day I'd went to Draco's office and had a panic attack in a broom closet.

Ha ha. Broom closet. Get the fuck over it!

Luckily, none of the other visions had come true, and for that I was grateful. I didn't think my nerves were ready to handle another complete meltdown just yet. Besides, I had more than enough on my plate. Two jobs, Draco and his religious attendance to therapy and managing a clean apartment because I still didn't believe in elf labour.

But at least now I understood why people keep the little things around. I was barely managing to keep up, even if Draco was helpful most of the time. We had _just _begun to fall back into some stable pattern of things. I knew what to expect, I knew where things were supposed to go and we were comfortable. Almost like the old days, but not. You can't go back after a mental attack, but I was more than happy to just live with it.

That was all before Draco started to act suspicious.

At first I thought it was all a part of my imagination. I had been waiting for him after his appointment with his therapist (who he still refused to tell me about because it was _confidential). _When he came up to me, he had been acting very suspicious. Fidgety, almost. Absolutely nervous, even. I'd thought it had probably been a reaction to something they had discussed during therapy. That was, until, he started asking strange questions.

We had stopped over for coffee at a Starbucks on our way back home. Sitting at one of the window seats and gazing at the ever present crowd rushing by, I caught Draco staring at me from his reflection on the glass window.

"What?" I finally asked him, checking for foam on my face and finding none.

"Nothing," he answered a little too quickly for my liking. I raised an eyebrow and he grinned sheepishly before I made to turn back to my crowd watching. There is absolutely nothing like crowd watching in New York. You will literally see every kind of person you could ever imagine, and _then _some. "Actually," he said, disrupting my thoughts once again, "there is something." I turned back to him, waiting for him to continue, but nothing came.

"Well?" I prompted after a whole two minutes had passed. Yes, I had watched it tick on a clock that was mounted on the wall positioned right over his head. Don't judge. Coffee makes me hyper. "What is it?"

"Well... do you trust me?" I nodded. "No, I mean, really trust me." I nodded again, this time slowly and a little more suspiciously. What had he done? "Yeah, that's all I wanted to know." And then he sat there, sipping his coffee contentedly as if he hadn't just been acting strange as fuck.

"Why did you want to know?" I asked.

He shrugged. "No reason."

I thought, hey, the man's going through therapy, let him breathe! His last session would be next week and perhaps he was feeling strange and all. Having rationalized it in my mind, I let it go and thought no more of it. That is until Sunday rolled around.

I woke up at 10 A.M. which was our usual wake up time. Normally, on Sundays we made it a point to lounge around and spend some time together, since we rarely got to do such things during the week anymore because of work. Today, however, I woke up to a note on my bedside table.

_Hermione, _

_Gone out for a run. Might not be home until late, John asked me to meet him for lunch. _

_Left you breakfast._

_D. _

It was unusual. Even before I had started working, Draco had made it a point never to work on Sundays. It had been a tradition he and his family had apparently followed for generations. Why would he meet John, a strictly business friend, on a Sunday?

Something was seriously up.

Even though my mind tried to rationalize it – _maybe it was too important to wait? Maybe it's not a business lunch... he HAD said he was going for a run before... – _It just didn't sit right. By the end of the day, I had worked myself into a frenzy. Dinner rolled around and still no Draco.

It just wasn't like him.

I was almost starting to worry and about to owl him when he rushed through the door, looking a bit ruffled and very out of breath. "I'm – _pant_ – sorry! – _pant. _Traffic was – _pant – _so bad..." he shook his head. I almost laughed, _almost, _but my frenzy was still there at the back of my mind. Eventually he calmed down, slumping against the door. "John roped me into coming home and helping him fix the place up," he said, with a very sour expression on his face. "Said I owed him the favour after what I put him through today." This was followed by a classic Malfoy eye roll and a disgusted face.

This time I really did smile, coming over to sit next to him. He pulled me over into his lap and kissed my forehead. "What did you put him through today?" I asked.

It was obviously the wrong question to ask. It was as if his kind expression melted and I even felt him go a bit stiff. But, true to Malfoy form, he forced himself to relax and remain calm in a situation he obviously didn't want to be in. "Oh. Taking him to a horrible restaurant for lunch?"

He was lying, I could tell and he was clearly hiding something. But you had to hand it to him, he was smooth. If I hadn't been obsessing about his strange behaviour all day – I probably wouldn't have even noticed, he was that good. For him, the moment had passed. He got up off the floor, pulling me with him.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, kissing me on the cheek.

/

Monday passed with very little contact except for a very quiet dinner and Tuesday lapsed similarly. Wednesday, I had to work on a draft of some second rate book, so things were quiet between us again. It was as if there was a huge tense bubble between us, but I was the only one who noticed.

Maybe I _was _overanalyzing.

So on Thursday, completely determined to go find Draco on my lunch break and pop the bubble – I went to his office, which I'd been avoiding since I'd had my panic attack. When I reached there, the secretary just smiled and waved me along and I smiled nervously back in return.

Because I was so nervous, I didn't immediately barge in. Thank God for that, too, because I heard voices coming through the door. The secretary had assured me that he wasn't with anyone... so perhaps he was flooing someone? Or someone was flooing him! That would be it. Yes... yes, it had to be.

I opened the door and found him sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, muttering. "Draco...?"

He shoot straight out of his chair, surprised, shocked, scared out of his mind. "What the – can't you _knock, _woman?"

"Oh, _I'm _sorry. Who were you talking to?" I looked around. The fire was empty (not even lit!) and there was no one sitting on the couch or any of the chairs. Walking over to the coat closet (yes, he had a closet in his office) I opened it and also found it empty. He looked at me as if I were an absolute lunatic while I checked under his desk and muttered every spell I knew to reveal hidden persons.

"What the hell are you _doing, _Hermione?" he asked, finally shaking me.

"Who were you talking to?" I demanded

"No one... you're going crazy!" he seemed affronted and a little desperate at being called out. I was going to find out what he was hiding once and for all. I knew I was acting like a crazy, jealous girlfriend, but how dare he call me out on it!

"_I'm _going crazy? For all I know you're sitting here talking to yourself!" I stood there with my arms folded over my chest, attempting to hold my own. I felt a bit foolish and probably looked a lot more foolish than I felt.

At that moment, his secretary decided to show up and announce that a client was here to see him and that it required his urgent attention.

Saved by the bell. Or rich investor – take your pick.

"I will see you at _home_!" I said dramatically, before storming my way out of his office like a Class A drama queen.

But the thing was, I barely did see him at home that day. He came home well past dinner and by that time I'd already crawled into bed. It was officially our first fight. So what if he had been acting a little suspiciously? It probably didn't mean anything... but on the other hand – if the fucker was cheating on me, I would cut something precious off of him before discarding him!

That night, and the next, we both slept with our backs to each other.

/

On Saturday I was obliged to meet Draco after his last appointment. I could be a bitch, but I still cared about the man. But that didn't mean I had to hurry up about it... So I met him there in my most unflattering best. Sweats, an oversized jacket and one of his winter hats. Can you blame me? New York Decembers are tough!

When he saw me, he cracked his first smile in two whole days and I couldn't help but smile back. "I didn't think you were coming," he finally said, after a good long silence had passed between us.

"I'm not that mean. Can you tell me why you've been acting so weird?" He shook his head no. "Please, Draco! I can't go on overanalyzing things!"

He gave me one of his pointed looks and I made the best pleading face I could. "You're not ready to hear it, love."

"I'm ready for anything you've got to throw at me. What is it?" I hid my hands inside his coat for warmth and he stared down at me.

"This isn't going to work anymore," he finally blurted out. "My therapist says I need to address my issues with commitment. And not just _shit _commitment, or just _sort of_ committing, saying I'll commit...but actually doing it. So there. I said it."

It was as if he had sucked the life right out of me. Literally. I felt a little weak and if I hadn't been holding onto him, I'd have collapsed already. Bloody hell... so this was it. He wasn't cheating on me or sneaking around. Yet. He just didn't want _me _anymore. Go figure... When he stepped away from me, I could feel my world ending.

And then just when I was about to cry, he got down on his knee right in the middle of a very dirty street. He _got down on his knee... _Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a velvet box.

A VELVET FUCKING BOX!

I couldn't breathe. Or maybe I'd forgotten how to breathe?

"Will you marry me, Granger?" It was the ultimate commitment and I felt shameful for thinking any less of him. Nodding my head wildly, making him laugh, he put a ring on my finger. And then I really _did _cry.

And just like that, on a very dirty and busy street in Manhattan, I was engaged to the most eligible bachelor of the world. (Ignore the exaggeration – I'm in bliss).

Sweats, an old ratty hat, shoes that probably had a hole in them and two day old bed hair.

What the hell did this man see in me?

**Draco: **

Admittedly there _had _been better ways to propose and I honestly had tried to plan them, but nothing got past the woman. How was I supposed to know? I hadn't realized that I was so easy to read. Malfoys weren't _supposed _to be easy to read after all. I'd been raised to be stoic and all that crap.

Guess this was another thing Father had failed at.

I bet he was rolling over in his grave. His precious son, the heir to the Malfoy throne (which was nonexistent by the way), was publically marrying a muggleborn. If he had been alive right now, I probably would have been disowned. Then, of course, he would have been met with the stark realization that he would have had no sway over his own companies.

Reality was a mean bitch. The thought actually made me laugh before it made my heart hurt.

It really could not get any more public than this, however. The tabloids, who had admittedly been hounding me since they'd caught wind of the fact that I was finally working on a new book, realized that my girlfriend was no longer my girlfriend. She was my fiancée.

We had officially become a public sensation.

Hermione couldn't go anywhere without being photographed and she swore that she was going to leave me for it. I suppose she had gotten enough of the tabloid exposure after the war, but how was any of this _my _fucking fault? I can't help the fact I'm amazingly brilliant and people want to know everything about my life. She should have known that by now.

Not that I'd say it out loud to her face, mind you. I'd heard enough of "_arrogant conceited bastard" _these days to last me a life time.

I honestly couldn't understand what the big deal was though.

So what if we were being photographed at restaurants...on the street... practically anywhere and everywhere, by both muggle and wizarding press? It wasn't _that_ bad being hounded. They usually knew to mind their space. Hermione, however, over worried about her hair, her clothes and just about everything else.

What was it with women and their appearance before a picture?

Apparently, being caught waving for a cab in a pair of sweats was not a pleasurable experience when you were plastered over a million magazines each week. I thought, hey, all press is good press! But women don't think like that about their own lives. Or at least _she _didn't, because she slapped me for it.

The stress of work and now planning a marriage (which she swore she had no idea how to do) was getting a bit to her head. I would say I regretted the decision if I hadn't found her panic and overworking amusing. But really, it was only _just _a little funny. I could really do without it all, though. Perhaps I could slip a calming draught into her coffee in the morning...

Ah well. I suppose this is the price of love.

**Hermione: **

"You've been busy," I heard, before I'd even settled down. The man didn't beat around the bush, did he!

I knew the expression on my face was one of guilt and I knew that _that _couldn't be helped. I had been so swamped with work, Draco, the press, and my pending marriage that I hadn't had any incentive to go see Tom. I'd been far too tired to put up with his snarky comments and teasing. It wasn't as if I had the time, right? _Right? _

"I know..." I slowly said, trying to assess his mood. "I'm sorry."

He _seemed _alright. But you really couldn't bank on that with someone like Tom Riddle. He was, of course, a regular psychopath, sociopath, murdering kook. One minute he could seem positively cheery and the next he could be angrier than a bear woken from its hibernation.

"It's not _my _future on line here," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. I rolled my eyes. Really, I could do _without _the dramatics.

"I've just had other priorities –"

"What could _possibly _be more important than your future, Hermione Granger?" he asked, as if I were stupid (which was not an uncommon occurrence around here).

"Well, I'm getting married, for one. And I have so much more work to do than is necessary. Can you imagine that I'm editing through _two _manuscripts on the side of my _regular_ job?" I stopped at his expression. "What?"

He just raised an eyebrow. "What? What did I say?"

He shook his head and gestured for me to sit down in my usual seat before he continued rather stiffly. "Marriage or not, your _future _means more, don't you think? And with the blondie too!"

Well, what was _his _problem? I stared at him incredulously. "Did you forget my _job _that I mentioned? And this marriage is my future, Riddle. Who I marry and how much of my time it takes up is none of your goddamn business."

"Everything about you is my goddamn business!" he hissed.

Suddenly, I was a bit scared. Inching my chair away from him as far as I could, I just stared as blankly as I could chanting a prayer to any God that was listening. Yes, he scared me. He was Voldemort after all... What if he decided to hurt me? Everything seemed real in this world.

What if he killed me and my soul would forever be trapped in this world? With _him? _Now that would really suck.

My panic must have shown on my face because he rolled his eyes and dropped himself onto a desk. "I meant to say, we're not doing very well with this prophecy and failure just doesn't settle well with me."

But he was very stiff and formal with his answer. I wasn't sure why, but for some reason, Tom Riddle Jr. didn't like the idea of me getting married. Was it because it was with Draco or just the whole institution of marriage itself?

"Failure doesn't settle well with me, either," I offered, rather unhelpfully.

"So you're occupying yourself with matrimony?" he quipped, disdainfully.

"You make it sound like that's the only thing I do with my time. Did I forget to mention the work? I have _two _manuscripts to go over! And then there's that meeting I haven't even prepared for tomorrow –"

"Granger."

"- And seeing as it's a very _important _meeting, too. Everyone's depending on me to be prepared –"

"Granger."

"- and I'm just not. Have you ever done something like that? I mean, just winged something really, really important. And don't even get me started on the files on my desk –"

"Trust me," he said. "I'm definitely not going to get you started on anything."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk an awful lot?" How rude of him! But my indignant expression couldn't help but be melted off by his too wide grin. Smacking him on the back of the head, I got up.

"Too bad we didn't get any work done today, champ," I said, attempting to be suave, but failing miserably. "I've got to get going. Draco's probably getting up now and I don't want him to be suspicious of my sleeping habits..."

It was a good thing I was focused on the wrinkles of my slacks, which were grey and absolutely fabulous (said the saleslady), or I would have noticed the completely murderous expression on his face. He did a pretty good job of hiding his irritation, as well as Tom Riddle could manage such things, when I finally looked up.

"Your life doesn't need to revolve around someone else, you know," he said, as I was just about to leave.

"You mean, no one except for you."

"Exactly," he said, grinning again.

Rolling my eyes and shaking my head at his arrogant self, I went home to my much sweeter, less snarky, but just as sexy boyfriend/fiancée.

But I couldn't help but wonder if Tom Riddle had a point. _Was _my life centred around a man? And if this was the case, was it necessarily a bad thing? I was definitely happier than I'd ever been in my entire life. I was mentally, emotionally and _definitely _physically fulfilled.

Morning sex was a good investment.

**A/N: Unsigned Reviews**

**Alexybath: **You're so welcome. : ) And I love Riddle too! I think after this story is done I shall write a Hermione/Riddle pairing. Just for fun. And your suggestion is duly noted. I hope you enjoyed.


	26. Should I Stay or Should I Go?

A/N: Happy Friday everyone! ISSUES TO ADDRESS: A lot of you feel like Hermione doesn't care about the prophecy – I assure you, she does. But she knows she's got to eventually die and this isn't going to stop her from living her life. On the flip side – I hope you noticed how Riddle was acting, because that was the emphasis in the last chapter, not Hermione's supposed carelessness. Thank you for commenting! I hope I cleared that up.

Thank you to: tfobmv18, Jade2099, Diamondreamer, leo says gerr, semantics, JRRTFrk, Alexybath and meow21 for reviewing.

I don't know why I don't like this chapter all that much. The next chapter I like better – see you all next week?

**Chapter 26: Should I Stay or Should I Go?**

**Hermione: **

_So much work to do, not enough time! So, so, so much work to do... OUCH! Fuck! Paper cuts are a bitch. Damn... right. What was I thinking? Oh, yes. So much work to do, not enough bloody time! Disorganization... damned bureaucracies! _

These were just a few of the thoughts running through my head as I sat at my desk, poised perfectly in my ridiculously beautiful office as would be expected of the future wife of Draco Malfoy. I was having a slight panic attack, true to form. I had drafts due, deadlines to meet and a goddamn weeding to plan! There were not enough hours in a day to do all this shit.

Had I actually praised Draco for getting me two jobs and finally proposing? What a stupid mistake. I take it all back. I fucking _hate _him!

It was as if speaking of the devil had summoned him to me, for my door opened and I heard voices drifting in, disturbing my concentration. I could place his voice in a crowd anytime, anywhere, without even looking up to confirm. Yes, I was that obsessed with the man, but that was allowed now that we were _engaged. _Even my mind couldn't get enough out of the word.

"Love?" he called from his place at the door.

"Mm?" I responded half heartedly, not bothering to look up lest it encourage him to continue talking. Couldn't he see I was busy?

"I have a surprise for you."

He was excited, I could tell, but I really was not in the mood for another one of his little surprises. He had been showering me with gifts of all kinds, because now I couldn't say no to expensive, lavish and absolutely unnecessary things anymore. It was apparently a rule. Now that we were engaged, he was allowed to buy me whatever struck his fancy and I was not to say no. It really only added to my stress. I realized he was only trying to be sweet in the way males are, but damn, it didn't make up for the fact I was working 24 hours a day, 7 days a week at _something. _

"Baby, not now. I'm busy," I said. I knew I was being ungrateful and he really was just trying to be nice, but it couldn't be helped. I was too stressed to be nice. This was almost as bad as my third year at Hogwarts, except this time I didn't have a time turner to help me get things done.

"Well, now we know who wears the pants in this relationship, Malfoy."

I looked up so quickly, I was sure everyone in the room had heard my neck crack. I was met with the lovely sight of Draco glaring at my best friends, who stood just by the door of my office. A messy haired Harry Potter and a bright and freckly Ginny Weasley, holding hands smiling at me.

My heart skipped a dozen beats and I could barely breathe, I was _that _shocked. Wasting no time, I ran towards the pair and embraced them as tightly as I could with my mouth still wide open.

"Told you I had a surprise..." muttered a very disgruntled Draco from somewhere behind me.

I ignored him for the moment. It could all bloody wait! "What are you guys _doing _here?" I nearly shouted.

"Maybe if you stop strangling me," Ginny gasped, "Harry might fill you in!"

Grinning guiltily as Ginny massaged her neck, I turned to Harry for an explanation. "Oh, I had to come here to meet with the Auror department at some conference, convention or something. It was rather boring, Ginny can attest to that," he paused, looking at me as if assessing my well being, which he probably was. "Imagine my surprise when I'm told you don't work there anymore?"

I grimaced, now putting my arm unconsciously around Draco's waist, which I imagine they didn't fail to notice. When I raised my hand to brush the errant stray hairs off my face, Ginny gasped.

"Hermione, what's that?" she nearly shouted.

"What's what?" I asked, scrubbing at my face, looking at Draco for help. When he just shrugged, I looked back at Ginny who was staring at me with a half excited, half shocked expression on her face. "I...Is there something on my face?"

Harry sniggered, but Ginny just walked forward and grabbed my hand, literally _pointing _to my engagement ring. "This! What's this?"

By now the smirk on Harry's face had disappeared as he realized which finger and hand the ring was placed upon and he too began to stare at me questioningly. They both were in shock. "It's...my engagement ring," I said point blank.

Well hey, there was no point beating around the bush, was there?

"You weren't even going to tell us you were bloody _engaged?" _Harry spluttered.

I grimaced and I could feel Draco growing more and more awkward by the second. "You must have missed our owl..." I offered pathetically.

In truth, there had been no owl. I'd been meaning to send one for ages now, but hadn't had the time nor the will to put up with such a daunting task. How _do _you tell all your friends, family, and acquaintances that you were getting married to your old school arch nemesis, who was the son of a Death Eater? Not to mention the fact that he had been a poor excuse of a death eater himself, but a death eater nonetheless.

The news that they had just missed my big news midair cheered them up immensely. "I'm so excited for you!" Ginny squealed, while Harry patted Draco on the back encouragingly.

I suppose the situation could have been much more awkward than it had gone.

/

Harry and Ginny had decided that they needed an extended vacation to get away from the "day to day". In reality, they had probably noticed how extremely happy I was to have them there, and decided to take pity on my helplessness/lack of friends and decided to stay. Yes, I had Draco, and of course he was a wonderful fixture in my life. But Draco could not substitute the void Zara had left in my life. A girl just _needs _to have some kind of friend around to divulge the things she could not tell the love of her life.

Knowing Draco, he had probably begged Harry to stay.

Whatever the case was, I wasn't going to ask questions and ruin it. Besides, who needs to have that kind of conversation when you had people to help you plan your own wedding? It was a gift that I was not going to look in the mouth. Ginny was a godsend and had a lot more sense in these matters than I did. I was not flailing anymore to make all my deadlines meet! And I was a lot happier for it.

It was on one of these wondrously happy days that I met Draco, Ginny and Harry for dinner at a pretentious Italian restaurant. I was so happy in fact, that I wasn't even bothered that the restaurant _was _pretentious and that the hostess was rude as hell until she figured out I was Draco Malfoy's fiancée.

_Bitch. _

"Sorry I'm late," I smiled, completely ignoring the waitress now that she had shown me to the table. Kissing Draco quickly as a hello just to show the now stunned hostess that I had a little dirt on her (no judging, New York turns women into evil beings). I hugged my two very dear friends close, before finally taking my seat and flipping through the menu.

"What held you up?" I heard Draco ask.

"Hm? Traffic on 5th. I'm famished, what are you all getting?"

It was a pleasant evening, overall. We ate, drank wine, talked about the most _ridiculous _things and I realized that I had missed my friends more than I had realized over the past year. Yes, I loved New York, and this was my lifelong dream, to be here – work here – but was it really enough? It was as if the group had sensed my thoughts because the conversation turned to what I dreaded most.

"We have to go back in a few days, unfortunately. I've gotten 18 owls already about crises..." Harry remarked with a roll of his eyes. Working his way up the ranks of the Auror department had meant that his presence was almost constantly required. It was a good thing that Ginny had decided to work towards a similar career path and was only a year or two behind him or their relationship would not have lasted as long as it had.

It wasn't a judgement, it was experience. Ron and I had proven to be incompatible for that very reason. But Ron was supposed to be the _last _thing on my mind. I didn't want to think about him or his current...predicament that I had been the cause of. Especially not now that my friends were going back to their own lives.

"Are you sure you have to leave so soon?" I pleaded. I caught the look Draco gave me and ignored it. "You could stay another few days... we don't mind, do we, Draco?" He shook his head.

"No," he spoke for himself, smiling at the pair sitting across from us. "You're more than welcome to stay, of course." I felt him squeeze my hand under the table. It was embarrassing that he was aware of what was going on through my head. For once, I didn't _want _him to know me so well. I didn't want him to think that he wasn't enough for me, or that I was so weak...

"We'd love to," said Ginny, this time. "Maybe next time though, okay?" she asked, looking at me concerned. What was this? Hermione pity fest time?

I put on a bright, wide smile. "Of course. Next time. Shall we order dessert?" Everyone at the table relaxed, as if they'd just been waiting for me to explode. How strange, right? It wasn't as if I was a ticking time bomb or anything... _right? _

Right! I could keep thinking that. No one was monitoring my thoughts, anyways. Who would know? Denial is absolutely wonderful.

Over a shared bowl of a vanilla fudge Sunday, Draco finally broke the awkward silence that had followed.

"Actually, maybe next time won't be so far off," he said.

Everyone looked at him, confused and curious. I was completely alert in attention. He dipped his spoon in chocolate syrup and took his time enjoying it, while we sat there in anticipation waiting for an explanation. Unfortunately, this was a habit of his that I was completely aware of which he completely denied ever doing. Giving attention to your food while talking about important things is _not _appropriate. _Especially_ if you look like a sex god when you eat.

"_Well?_" I finally prompted.

He looked up as if he were surprised, which he probably was. The man had the tendency to become engrossed with his food – especially all things chocolate. I rolled my eyes and he smiled a little sheepishly. "Oh. Well, Malfoy industries in the UK are expanding."

Well that was news.

He looked at me quickly to confirm I wouldn't interrupt before continuing. "It's very tentative, of course. But I'll need to be there to oversee and manage. I was _going _to spring the news when I had a more concrete idea but..." he trailed off.

Everyone knew what that little but meant. He had said it for my benefit so that I wouldn't feel so damn depressed that Harry and Ginny were practically abandoning me. It was so sad that I wanted to slap him over the head for being so... so what? Considerate?

_Damn you, Draco Malfoy_... I could feel his hand come to rest on my knee under the table but I shook it off. I did not need to be distracted right now, especially when we were discussing the future.

"How long would you be there?" I heard Ginny enquire.

Draco looked at me again, and the meaning behind his glance was very clear. "Six months, maybe," he said, slowly, still staring at me. "A year... it's all quite indefinite."

**Draco: **

After I had given her the news that we would possibly be going back to her friends and old life, I had assumed Hermione would be happy. But instead, she seemed as if she were horrified at the idea of going back home. Who could blame her? After what had happened the last time we were there...

She ignored me for the rest of the evening. After we had left Ginny and Harry for the night at my house, we both silently apparated back to the apartment. She cleaned up a bit, still absolutely silent and ignoring me. When there was nothing left to do, she started to get ready for bed.

There was nothing I could do except follow her actions. I watched her through the mirror as I brushed my teeth, hoping that she'd say something, but she just continued ignoring me. It was almost frustrating and I wanted to yell at her for being so _childish. _

So what if I had made the wrong decision by spewing out big news like that at dinner? She didn't have to punish me for it. Everyone makes mistakes.

By the time we had both gotten in bed, turning out the lights, I was thoroughly aggravated. Lying on my back with an arm over my head covering my eyes, I heard her turn onto her side to face me. I knew she was watching me, probably waiting for me to say something, but now I felt like being childish too. I didn't feel like apologizing or talking, really.

It could wait.

But apparently, she _couldn't _wait.

"When were you going to tell me that we were going to move back?" she finally asked in a small voice.

I sighed. "I told you. I was going to ask you when I had more information. I might not even have to go – really. If you hadn't wanted to, I would've either travelled back and forth or had someone else handle it. It's honestly not a big deal."

Peaking out at her from under my arm turned out to be a mistake. She was considering what I had just told her, a mask of concentration painted onto her face. When she started to chew her lip, I couldn't help but gather her into my arms and kiss her gently.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want. I would never, you know that don't you?" She nodded and kissed me again.

"What do _you_ want?" she asked, pulling away from my lips.

I considered her for a moment, thinking. What _did _I want?

"Anything you want, love."

And so, we made love twice that night, before passing out completely.

When I woke, the sun was just beginning to rise. I found her staring at me, gently stroking my hair. Pulling her close to me, I buried my nose to the crook of her neck and sighed. I would do anything to keep waking up with her every day just like this.

"I want to go, Draco," she whispered.

And just like that, it was decided that we would be moving, going back to a life that we had both consciously left behind.

/

Unfortunately for Hermione and I, no decision can be made without the press knowing about it. Just a week after Harry and Ginny had left and after I had confirmed that I would, indeed, be heading back to London for some time, an "insider" from my company leaked the information to the tabloids.

And of course, that leak turned into an international sensation.

It was an absolute fiasco.

Now, not only were we being stalked to the point where security was needed to keep the cameras and pushy reporters back, but we also got piles and piles of mail flooding our apartment. There were so many owls that I had to hire someone to deal with the situation.

It was worse for Hermione.

She became the centre of attention. Suddenly, ministry representatives began to badger her for her time, claiming that they had amazing job offers for her. Owls began to pour in from the British Ministry of Magic, offering her better deals. It became a war between states, literally. Apparently, those who held my girlfriend under employment would automatically have me support them in funding and of course, in the papers.

Not that they were wrong. If that was what Hermione wanted, that is what I would be doing.

But they didn't leave her _alone_. Even when she publically announced that she would not be leaving her employment at Malfoy Industries, they continued harassing her in the hope that she would change her mind.

It was as if both ministries of magic were fighting over what would be their new funding source and of course, their new public posters. Slowly, they began trying to outdo each other, not only with the job opportunities, but at _every _front. Eventually, it wasn't even about who would get Hermione to come work for them. It was a battle of who would get Hermione and I as citizens.

We got offers of houses, cars, broomsticks, dinner reservations at overly booked restaurants, star treatment on the streets... eventually, it got ridiculous. But how often do you get bribed by the Ministry of Magic? The best thing to do, it turned out to be, was ignore them all and let it be carried out on its own.

But, of course, the majority of the mail came from fans. Some of it was addressed to me, of course, stating how sad they were that I had decided to abandon them and that they had no reason to live any longer (I kid you not, things like this cannot be made up or exaggerated). But a larger portion of it was addressed to Hermione.

Unfortunately, more than half of it was hate mail.

_... How could you force the poor man to go back to YOUR country? You selfish whore! ... _

_... Everyone knows you're feeding him love potions. Have the decency and let him go. ..._

_... You don't deserve him, celebrity seeking bitch... _

This, Hermione said, she could handle, that she _had _handled it in the past and that it didn't bother her whatsoever. But when several of the letters held dangerous, damaging items (curses and the like) I decided to have them all screened. She didn't want me to take care of the situation. She said people had the right to free speech and if they wanted to write to her, which was absolutely fine with her.

Nonetheless, when I got news that someone had tried to ship a banshee to her, I put my foot down and had all of the mail banned. At that point, she was forced to agree that her safety was far more important than anything else.

Regardless, she seemed to be taking the entire situation quite well. She seemed glad to be going home to her friends, but entirely subdued. I couldn't figure it out until one day when we were packing up a few things from our room I saw her pause suddenly at finding something in a drawer.

When she didn't move for a few minutes, but simply stood there hunched over the object, I went over and saw that she was holding a piece of paper with pretty writing scrawled all over it.

"What's that?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her.

"Oh, this is just... something I forgot I had." She continued examining it, then chuckled a little. "Zara and I would have lunch in the cafeteria sometimes, but we couldn't really speak freely there... so we would pass notes to each other. You know, like in school."

She read a line out to me and laughed a little, but there was no joy in it. She kissed my cheek, smiled sadly and went back to packing the contents of the drawer. I watched her for a while, contemplating. Yes, she was happy to be going, but at the same time... there were things holding her back.

Then it hit me and I knew what needed to be done.

/

On a Saturday morning, bright and early I left Hermione sleeping in our bed to do something I hope she wouldn't kill me for later. I had a good feeling that if this went well, she would be a lot happier. But if it _didn't _go well and she found out about it – I'd be a dead man walking.

Barely walking and barred from bed. And _that _would be unbearable as any man can attest.

Unbearable I tell you!

Feeling a little silly as I walked down a quiet suburban street at an ungodly hour (WITHOUT COFFEE!), I tried to make it look like I had a legitimate purpose for being there. Well. Obviously I had a legitimate reason to be there, but I felt quite out of place regardless. It felt as if community patrol would suddenly pop up and take me to jail for trespassing.

Of course, I had been here before with Hermione countless times. But without her here, it felt just...wrong.

But that was exactly why I needed to do this.

It took me a whole five minutes to figure out that indeed, this was the right house. Walking up the steps I rang the doorbell and waited. A minute passed, then two while I stood there in anticipation and feeling more than a little stupid. _Was _this necessary? What would I even say to her?

When another minute passed I rang the doorbell again, and still nothing. When I finally rationalized that I had given it my best shot and began to leave, the door opened. Turning, I found a very ruffled looking woman standing there in a nightgown looking thoroughly harassed. She wasn't paying me any attention, but still looking over her shoulder, yelling at someone.

"_No. _Put that down! Charlie, can you _please _take your sister back to bed?" After a minute of her attempting to discipline her children, through which I just awkwardly stood there, she finally addressed me. "Yes, how can I help –"

That is, until, she saw who I was.

"Hello, Zara," I offered pathetically.

She stood there with her mouth slightly ajar, regarding me as if she didn't know what to make of my presence. Then, she abruptly stepped back in, shut the door and left me standing on her porch like an idiot. I stood there a minute, scratched my head and attempted to process what had just happened.

Again, when I made to leave, the door opened once again and Zara stepped out once more, this time donning an oversized sweater.

"I hope you don't mind if I don't offer you to come inside. The kids..." I just nodded my head in understanding. She gestured towards a couple of chairs that were scattered over her porch and I gratefully accepted the offer. "Would you like some tea?"

"I think we're past that now," I said, honestly.

She stared at me, for a moment, simply analyzing. "There is _nothing _you can say that will fix it." She seemed determined, but I had come here with a strong resolve.

"There are a lot of things that you, or anyone, don't know about Hermione Granger. You shouldn't judge her by what you _think _you saw."

"I was _there_. I saw enough, and there's nothing you can say that will change what she did to me! Do you understand?" she said, getting up to leave and go back inside.

"Hear me out, won't you? You owe her at least that much." She hesitated.

"I have a... mental condition." I paused and grimaced. Hearing those words come from my own mouth was a shocking experience. But I had to do it for Hermione. "Hermione has had to deal with..._it_, all on her own, because frankly I don't have anyone other than her." She sat down, heavily. "My healer said I have the tendency to disassociate myself from my personality when certain..._memories _from the past – from _my _past – come up."

She seemed confused. "What does this have to do with what happened?"

"She was _intoxicated, _Zara."

"That doesn't mean –"

And at that point, my clearly composed facade snapped. "No, listen to me. She was intoxicated. From the morning to when you found her – and all because of _me. _Because I practically abandoned her for weeks at a time! Your scumbag of an ex tried to rape her, do you _understand_? And I couldn't stop it because I was too busy agonizing over the past. If it hadn't been for you that night..."

She seemed as horrified as I'd felt when Hermione had related the story to me.

"You can't hold it against her. If you want to blame someone, blame me. It's all my fault..." But she seemed too shocked to answer. "You might not want to ever see her again, but we would love it if you came to our wedding. I'm sure you know we're moving to London for a while?"

She barely nodded in acknowledgement, sitting there desperately gripping the chair she sat in.

"Owl me if you are interested. I can arrange transportation for you and your children." With a smile and a look back, I made my exit, hoping that I'd made enough of an impact for all issues to be solved.

Hell, even if she didn't come to her senses, at least I had tried. And that was what would count.

**A/N: Unsigned Reviews **

**Jade2099: **Being the brightest witch of her age, I think Hermione's mind would be rather chaotic and, as you accurately described, like running a marathon. I'm glad you caught that – it's EXACTLY what I was going for. And because Draco is after all a Malfoy – I'd say he's pretty good at the hiding stuff. : ) Thanks for reviewing!

**Diamondreamer**: : ) I don't like keeping people waiting. I hope it works out too – thanks for reviewing!

**Alexybath: **I'm glad you liked it! If you liked the last one, I'm sure you're going to like chapter 27 just as much. And maybe you've got Riddle figured out, maybe you don't. You never know. The guy's too slippery to understand most of the time. Thanks for reviewing, as always.

**Meow21: **Thanks, I'm glad you liked it! I don't have a Tumblr but I update every weekend (Friday or Saturday normally) without fail. If all else fails, you could always create an account and add the story to your story alerts and it'll email you. Sorry for being unhelpful...


	27. There Goes the Bride

A/N: Hello everyone! Had a good week? I definitely did.

This chapter marks the end of a stage in Hermione's life. Now she's going to be moving on to bigger, greater events. I quite like this chapter, like I mentioned – I hope you like it too. Welcome to all my new readers (Yes, I know who you are!) and hello again to my old ones. Let me know what you think!

Thank you to: JRRTFrk, semantics, Akatsuki'sBloodyNekoNinja, Alexybath and xenaz3 for reviewing.

The wedding itself is dedicated to Semantics. : )

WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT AHEAD!

**Chapter 27: There Goes the Bride**

**Hermione: **

Walking – no, running – up the flights of stairs to the Astronomy tower had become a sort of habit as of late. We had decided to meet there daily, since apparently it was a good work environment and since these days I had also made it a habit to be perpetually late – there was no other option but to run or face the wrath of the most impatient dead man in the world.

A.K.A Tom Riddle, if you had any doubts about who I was talking about.

But today, I was running later than usual. We had had to finish packing the rest of the apartment as well as Draco's things at his house (which had not been awkward at _all _of course!) and it had taken longer than I had expected. Tomorrow, we would be leaving for London.

Indefinitely.

I had put off telling Riddle this development in my life. Honestly, I hadn't known how to bring it up. In fact, I wasn't even sure why I was compelled to tell him. Why would it matter to him, anyways? I could meet him just as easily from there as I could in New York. It wouldn't make a difference at all.

But still, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was being dishonest with him. But then, my mind spoke up, why would it matter if I kept things from him _anyways_? He was helping me sure, but he didn't need to know all of the details of my life.

Against all reasonable explanations, I felt the need to divulge it to him anyways. He was a sort of... friend. At the very least, I could depend on him to help me with this prophecy bullshit. And besides, he probably wouldn't even care that I was going away to London. It wouldn't make a difference to him, either way.

So why did I feel nervous?

When I finally reached my destination I found him lying on a ragged blanket we kept there for the colder nights. He was stretched out on it, in his impeccably pressed black shirt and equally impressive trousers. The sun was just beginning to set, and the magnificent rays only made his body glow. I had come to know exactly why everyone had worshiped Tom Riddle back in the day. They really couldn't be blamed one little bit. He looked like a _God. _

How had Dumbledore resisted the charm? He had been _gay _for Merlin's sake!

"Something's happened, yes?" he called to me from his place on the floor. I sighed. As usual, he hadn't even opened his eyes.

"What do you mean?" I feigned.

He peaked up at me through one lid, as if making sure that I was _really _asking such a simple question. "I can feel the tension rolling off of you all the way from here, darling." He lay back, with his head in his arms, enjoying the last of the sunshine. I could see a bit of his stomach peak out from where his shirt had risen, and I actually _gulped. _

Being with him sometimes felt like I was cheating on Draco – except, the guy was dead, so it didn't exactly count. In fact, it wouldn't even technically count if I slept with him. _He_ _is dead! _Don't judge me. Not that I would actually sleep with a person like Tom Riddle, willingly.

"Well?" he asked impatiently, snapping me out of my wild and completely inappropriate thoughts.

"_Well, _what?" I asked. He really needed to learn how to be patient, he really did. No wonder he didn't have any friends around here!

"_Well,_" he mimicked me, perfectly, "What happened? Did another vision come to pass?" And at this, he sat up to regard me with what I assumed was his idea of concern. Well, you had to hand it to him. He could be a total bastard one second and completely enrapturing the next.

"Oh no, nothing like that," I said, quickly squashing his theory. I came to sit down next to him on the blanket, kicking my shoes off. The stone floor of the Astronomy tower was too chilly _not _to go sit next to him.

"Then like what?" he persisted, not giving up.

I rolled my eyes, but he only smirked when he caught it, which in turn caused me to roll my eyes again. "It's like me moving."

"Hm?"

"I'm moving."

"Don't be silly, you're sitting completely still."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing and all he could do was stare at me incredulously as if he _hadn't _just said something completely stupid. I laughed so hard I think I ruptured my spleen or cracked a rib. For the first time in history... Tom Riddle had said something nonsensical and I couldn't keep my laughter in.

"Enough, you crazy woman! Stop it!" He seemed afraid at my hysteria, almost, but then he couldn't help but join me – even if he was only laughing at my behaviour. When we finally stopped laughing, I lay there with my red face, stitched side, sore cheeks and completely out of breath. "What was so funny?" he eventually asked.

"I'm moving _countries, _Riddle," I managed to gasp out.

"Oh."

We lay there in silence for quite some time. I wondered what he was thinking and why his response had been so empty. Staring at the beautiful sky turned out to be enough of a pastime while I waited for him to answer. Sunrise and sunsets were the most _beautiful _times of day at Hogwarts. It was a tranquility I missed but was glad to have acquired it again in this form, at least, in this world.

It seemed as if ages had passed and I had thought he had dozed off on me. When I turned to confirm my suspicion, I found him staring at me intensely. It was unnerving. Not in the sense that I was afraid of him, but in the sense that I felt as if I owed him something but I just didn't have anything to give. His gaze was almost... _needy. _And I wondered why.

"Where are you moving?" he finally asked. His voice was husky, low and completely attractive. I had a feeling he wasn't even aware of it.

"To London. Draco is expanding his company and I'm going to need to be there to help."

It had, apparently, been the wrong answer to give. He rolled his eyes and rolled over onto his back to watch the last of the sunset. I waited for him to say something, for some kind of emotion to flicker back onto his face, but he was completely impassive and silent.

Eventually, night fell, but we still lay there in silence. Me, watching him, and him watching the stars.

"So it's getting serious then," he remarked.

It was completely unexpected. I hadn't thought he would say anything else to me tonight. "Yes, they've gotten around to really depending on me at work," I stated proudly. I had no idea why, but I had confided all manner of things to Tom Riddle. And more surprisingly, not only had he listened to me, but had even offered brilliant advice.

He _was _a friend, I realized. A very good friend.

First, he chuckled and then his face darkened a bit. "I meant with the blond product of incestuous relationships."

I smacked his arm but he didn't say anything. And then I realized the man was being _serious. _"Riddle, we've been engaged for a _while. _What did you think it was, just a fling? And why do you have to talk about him like that? I love him." I sat up to regard him.

But all the infuriating devil spawn did was shrug.

I got up, going towards the ledge of the tower to take in the view of the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts. I could feel him watching me from where he lay, but thought it best to ignore him. From here, I could see Hagrid's hut, but there was no fire – no smoke coming out of the chimney. It looked like a cold little hut and I couldn't help but feel colder for it.

"Well, I can't help but say you have poor taste," he called back to me.

I turned around, angry now for him being so goddamn unsupportive. "Well, I can't exactly commend you on _your _taste, Riddle. After all, you are a mass murdering, psychotic, _lunatic!" _I yelled, my voice rising with each word. "And how _dare _you insult someone I care about? Draco has done the _world _for me and more and what have you done?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off before he could manage.

"All _you've _done is attempted to help me unsuccessfully with a goddamn prophecy that you don't even _care _about. This is all a game to you, Riddle, isn't it? All you want is to gain points with Albus fucking Dumbledore. You want to be able to say that at least _someone _trusted you after all you've done to the world!"

I stood there, fuming, glaring at him and his pretentious, self righteous, ridiculously irritating body. But as I slowly cooled down, I realized that I had been harsh. If Tom Riddle had the capacity to look hurt (without feigning it, because he knew I could see past that now), it was now.

I almost felt bad. _Almost_.

Instead, I made to leave. He could be hurt for all I cared. I was done with him and his snide jabs at my life, my choices and the people I associated myself with. I didn't need anyone else to tell me my life is inadequate. I didn't need another person to judge my choices.

"Hermione," he called to me, just as I reached the door to the staircases. I stopped but didn't look back at him. I was afraid if I did, I'd lose my temper again. But something in his voice stopped me and forced me to listen.

"I'm sorry," he said. And then I just _had _to risk losing my temper to make sure that I had heard correctly. That Lord Voldemort had indeed just uttered an apology to me, a mudblood. It was unreal and absolutely heart stopping. But was it genuine?

Judging by the pained expression on his face, I decided that yes, it was indeed genuine. But how could it be?

_Lord Voldemort apologizes to no one! _

Especially not someone like me...

He had probably guessed my thoughts. But come on, it wasn't all that hard to guess what I was thinking about at this point. "Yes, I have _many _reasons to be sorry. But mainly for not being straightforward with you. But that, unfortunately, cannot change because you are already claimed."

Alright, that threw me. I had no idea what he was talking about. When I opened my mouth to ask, he just raised his hand for silence. "Will you do me a favour, please?"

Again, _please? _Who the hell was this imposter and where was Tom Riddle? I wanted to say it aloud, but he actually seemed _vulnerable. _So I just nodded and he seemed slightly relieved.

"When you go back home, home to London, will you visit my grave?"

/

Moving back to London had been more difficult than either of us had anticipated, but in the end we had managed to settle for an overly large apartment in London. That, of course, had been on Draco's insistence. Why we _needed _a five bedroom apartment was well beyond my comprehension, but sometimes the man was decidedly lavish.

It was on such a busy day that I was unpacking, painting the walls magically and making sure Crookshanks didn't tear into the new furniture, that there was a knocking on the door. Me, thinking that it was only Draco back with lunch, shouted for them to come in.

I heard the door open to the room I was in and I spoke without turning around. "Thanks baby, I'm starved. Just put it in the kitchen and I'll be there in a second, okay?" I spelled the paint rollers to stop what they were doing and levitated them onto the sheet on the floor. "Can you make sure Crookshanks doesn't eat the paint in the living room?"

"Crookshanks seems to be happy with your shoes," I heard a voice that was clearly _not _Draco. Spinning around I found the last person I'd expect standing there watching Crookshanks nibble on my discarded shoes.

"What are you doing here?" I felt completely self conscious compared to her immaculately dressed form. I was dressed in baggy sweats and one of Draco's old shirts covered in dust and paint while she... well, she was always perfectly dressed.

That's Zara for you.

"I came to apologize," she said quietly. She took a few tentative steps into the room, as if she were uncertain. What could she possibly want to apologize for? "Draco...before you left, he came and told me what really happened, but you were gone before I could come and apologize."

There were tears in her eyes and I felt completely girly for admitting that I was crying freely too. "I'm _so _sorry, Hermione." I ran towards her, closing the distance between us and slamming her into a gigantic hug. "Will you ever forgive me?"

I sniffed, looking up at her. "Want to be a bridesmaid?"

She laughed, wiping away her tears and nodded enthusiastically. And just like that, Zara and I were friends again as if nothing had even happened.

When Draco walked back in and found us embracing, messy with paint and tears, he just stood there grinning as if he'd achieved a gold medal. So I did what any grateful lover does. I gave him the finger and went back to hugging my girlfriend.

**Two Months Later: **

All too soon, it was the night before the wedding and for some reason, I was absolutely afraid for the sun to rise. Why, I have absolutely no idea. I assumed it was a case of cold feet (everyone gets cold feet in the movies!) and that had to be the reason. Because really, there was no rational reason for me to be afraid of my own goddamn wedding.

I mean... I had already lived with Draco for a reasonable amount of time before we had gotten engaged. We were clearly compatible with each other and I know reasonably well that I didn't want to spend my life with anyone but him. He would love me, he wouldn't let me crash and burn and he was the very definition of a "soul mate".

And there was also the fact that I was meant to be with him. Literally. Fate wanted us to be together. So why was I so scared? This was all planned! It was _supposed _to happen. There was no reason to doubt it, I told myself. It had to be cold feet. There was no other plausible explanation.

Well, except for the fact that everyone had blown this wedding clear out of proportion.

I almost wished I had married the man in New York when I'd had the chance to avoid all the commotion. Mrs. Weasley and her little minions (Ginny, Fleur and Zara) had turned this into the event of the season. Clearly, they were out to ruin my life. Everyone who was anyone was going to be there and the last time I'd checked the guest list it had been just about 500 people.

500 people!

500 people come to watch the golden girl marry an ex-death eater turned amazing entrepreneur turned friend of all Gryffindors.

Of course, all my closest (and not so close) friends had been invited to the extravaganza. It was to be held in a grand wizarding hall that had been built in honour of Circe, and then celebrated afterwards in a grand ball room – one of the many in a Malfoy owned hotel.

I barely slept that night in fear and anticipation of the next day. It was a good thing the minions were so skilled at the art of make up because I'd seriously need to cover the huge black bags I knew would be there in the morning.

/

It was too bright, too hot and my dress was too poofy to walk in. Rather than let me complain about it (after all, wasn't this supposed to be my day?) they told me to stuff it and had me stand still so I could be properly dolled up.

I was ready to _kill _someone.

I almost wished I had some firewhisky. _Almost. _If only I hadn't had such bad experiences with it in the past. Wasn't this supposed to be enjoyable? It was so far from enjoyable that I think it was a lot more comparable to a trip to hell. That's not a very good thing to be saying about your wedding day. I'm rather sure that's a bad sign. Bad luck? Or SOMETHING.

My fear was still very present in my mind. It was completely irrational, I told myself. Unfortunately, the stomach does not listen to the minds voice of reason. Stupid stomach..._stupid mind! _And stupid fucking Ginny for making me wear such high heels to balance out the hem of the dress!

Soon the clock struck twelve and it was noon. My anxiety only increased at this for it meant that it was time to go. I was going to get married now. My mind couldn't process it and apparently neither could my stomach.

My bridesmaids all kissed me lightly on the cheek. There was a curtain covering the door, one that we all would have to walk through in a moment's time.

"It'll be okay," whispered Zara before she walked through the curtain partition. She was soon followed by Fleur, who perhaps looked even more beautiful than I did, which wasn't unusual at all. Fleur could outshine anyone, even if she were ungroomed, unwashed and wearing a sack. Ginny squeezed my hand and then she too went out to take her place as my maid of honour.

Trying to keep my minimal breakfast of orange juice down, I walked through the curtain, praying to God that I wouldn't be sick. Or worse, trip and rip my overly expensive gown.

It was beautiful.

There was no other way to put it. The light was soft and natural and I almost felt as if I were floating. My father graciously took my arm and we began our treacherous procession down the aisle. It wasn't so bad, really. My father wouldn't let me fall.

At least, I _hoped _he was strong enough to steady me _should _I fall.

The church itself was beautiful, a tribute to the origin of magic and Circe. It was all stone and stained glass, but not damp and musty as might be expected, neither was it cold or drafty. Rather, there was a welcoming atmosphere in the building, and one could hardly even tell that there were several hundred people packed in like rats to watch a show.

Clutching onto my father's arm like a lifeline, I realized the overdressed people seemed almost gaudy against the beautiful art on the walls and domed ceiling. I felt almost as ease. Well, as calm as one can possibly be with half of the British wizarding population staring at your every move. They couldn't judge me in a place that was so sacred, right? Not without being judged themselves.

Thank god for the ministry kissing our arses, or we wouldn't have gotten such a wonderful place.

Soon, the aisle of death and been walked across, and I was safely placed in the crook of Draco's welcoming arm. The look he gave me when I finally reached him was one I couldn't really place. Was it gratefulness or devotion? It made my heart melt. How could I have possibly been afraid of spending the rest of my life with a person like this?

With his arm firmly placed around my waist, he turned to the minister who began to speak. I on the other hand, couldn't look away from him. He was so goddamn _fetching _in his robes and muscular body just pressed against me. It was quite sad that I couldn't concentrate on my own wedding ceremony... too engrossed with my future husband. Is it even possible to be so empty headed? But who can blame me? He's an Adonis in flesh and blood! Especially with the way he stood poised, all confident and such. I'm rather sure Witch Weekly would be covering it in their next issue.

When Draco suddenly let go of me and turned to look at me with worry etched on his face, I was effectively startled right out of my thoughts. The surprise that I knew was evident on my face made his worry even more apparent. He seemed...cautious.

Looking around, though, I realized that the place was dead silent and everyone was staring at me. It was an absolute _What the Hell Did I Do? _Moment.

Eventually, the minister cleared his throat, and the everyone focused their attention towards him. "Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Yes?" I responded a little stupidly.

"Do you take this man to be your husband?" This was apparently being asked of be a _second _time.

Well damn. How the hell did I screw THAT up?

"Yes! Yes, of course I do!"

Before the minister had even finished pronouncing us man and wife, Draco grabbed me in his arms and kissed me more thoroughly than was appropriate for public. And so, with thunderous applause – I became Mrs. Hermione Malfoy. And I rather liked the sound of that.

/

The rest of the evening passed in a blur and soon I found myself a little tipsy off the amount of champagne I had drunk. Next thing I knew, I was being carried to my new apartment in the arms of my brand new husband.

Life was glamorous at that moment. I didn't care if this moment wouldn't last. In my mind, this _was _forever.

We didn't waste time with frivolities. Instead, Draco carried me straight to the bedroom and deposited me gently in our bed. In our extravagantly _large _bed. He claimed that he had lived frugally with me long enough and now was the time to invest in things that suited his tastes as well as mine. I just couldn't find it in my heart to deny him anything.

"I know why they make these things so elaborate now," he muttered, struggling with my poofy, hand-made, beautiful wedding dress. "They want to make my night even MORE difficult!"

I giggled at his response. His cheeks were tinged pink, probably from the champagne as well. His hair was a little ruffled, this most likely caused by my constant touching. He was so beautiful, I could hardly contain my joy. "Maybe it's supposed to be difficult, sweetheart," I managed to gasp out, burying my fingers in his hair. His lips were on my neck, exploring, while his fingers attempted to make my dress come off. The result was more like him groping me through layers of material that I wished would just automatically go away.

"Like unwrapping a bloody package." He growled at my giggle.

"I can be like your present!" I said, a little tipsily. Spreading myself out on the bed under him and raising my arms above my head, I waited for him to manage the dress off. "Happy birthday," I offered, smilingly.

The look he gave me was one of such pure lust, I couldn't help but bite my lip and press my legs together in reaction. But he wouldn't have it. A minute later, with a quick wave of his wand, my dress was gone and he was above me, pinning my wrists above my head. His lips were everywhere, his skin completely pressed against mine.

"You're mine," he whispered in my ear. With his lips pressed against mine, he pushed himself into me and I almost screamed. "Mine," he moaned into my mouth.

The resulting "Yes!" escaped my mouth without me even noticing it. Soon, the room was filled with grunts as he completely _filled _me. My legs automatically went around his waist, pulling him to me, wanting more of this delicious man. The friction made my eyes roll back into my head, and the look on my face made him thrust harder.

It was the most needy sex we'd had in a while. Him gliding along my skin was only made easier with the sweat from our exertions. His hand that palmed my breast was what had me come the first time, the second from his hand inching lower and rubbing so goddamn sinfully, I almost passed out from the intensity of it.

Finally, with one last hard thrust, he held still in me while I clenched repeatedly around him. The feeling of his release made me join him once more and I was completely sated. He lay over me, panting for a moment, before he untangled himself from my legs locked around his waist and lay next to me, pulling me into his arms. I kissed him, softly at first and then deeply enough for him to know how much I loved him.

And when we were on the brink of sleep, with his arms wrapped around my still naked form and his head pressed against the back of my neck, I felt like there was nothing better in this world than belonging to Draco Malfoy and in turn having my name branded onto him.

**A/N: Unsigned Reviews **

**Alexybath: **Haha, yes, I do enjoy when the other characters creep in and out! And yes – lots more drama to come. See you next Friday!

**Xenaz3: **I must say I like your name quite a bit. Thank you for reading, I'm glad you're liking it so far. I update every week, I hope that's not _too _much of a wait. I know some authors like to leave their stories alone for months at a time (I've been guilty of doing it too at some points, understandable of course) – but, it's nice to be productive at something. By the way, I rather like Riddle too. You're going to enjoy the next few chapters immensely if you like him a lot. See you next week!


	28. Bossy Wives and Redheaded Mania

A/N: So this and the next two chapters after it are a sort of transition in order to place Hermione and Draco in the next stage of their crazy life. This chapter is a little on the short side, but I like it just the same. This is for all the Draco obsessed fans.

On a side note, have you all seen the pictures from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 from the epilogue? WHAT THE HELL IS WITH THE GODDAMN BEARD? And does Daniel Radcliffe look like a grandfather or what? Let me know what you think about this because I was a little freaked out by it.

As always, thank you to my lovely reviewers: semantics, SlytherinPrincessxXx, TomorrowsMorbidSunshine, Alexybath, pardonnez and xenaz3.

**Chapter 28: Bossy Wives and Redheaded Mania **

**Draco: One Year Later **

They say getting married is a drag, but a year in I'm still quite entranced with my wife.

For the most part.

Sure, the novelty of calling her Mrs. Malfoy has worn off a tiny little bit, but that's to be expected I'm sure! Life hadn't changed much after we got married. I'm not sure what we were expecting to happen honestly. A whole new perspective on life? A new person? I'd already known everything about her before we had taken the bullet (I mean vows...). She was still the same old Hermione and I sure as hell didn't go through an overnight transformation.

Life was... pretty much the same, really.

I still got irritated when she didn't organize the clothing properly after it was washed, and she definitely still yelled at me for being secretive about my...personal affairs. We still bantered, we still played and the sex was _definitely_ just as good as it always had been.

The only thing that didchange, and had to have changed, was the way we lived. Appeasing two governments that wanted you around and promoting their was, as well as the inconvenient situation of having businesses across oceans meant exactly that – travelling across oceans to appease hoards of people.

I didn't particularly mind this, however. Spending too much time in one place started to be a drag after a while. So, we had taken to travelling between New York and London as our schedules saw fit. Sometimes, we would travel back and forth for a few weeks, other times whole months at a time.

If Hermione found this to be annoying, she gave no indication. I, on the other hand, was enjoying my work, my life and everything in general. I had finally found friends (even though they were technically Hermione's friends at first – but no one can forever resist the Malfoy charm!). It was surprising. I mean, these people actually gave a damn about my well being and weren't completely cold hearted. It was a very warm niche to have settled into and it only validated my choices.

Sure, there was a whole pureblood community that called me a blood traitor, but now I understood why the Weasleys hadn't minded those slurs even a little bit. It was worth being labelled a blood traitor by a bunch of cold hearted murderers and be loved and cared for than to be stuck in bloody boring pure blood society that would cast you out the minute you wore the wrong robes to an event.

Perhaps I was being a little harsh in my assessment, but I was done with my old life and everything that it had made me suffer through. It was time to move on, and that's exactly what I was doing. Blood traitor or not, I was finished and Hermione was my ticket out.

If my parents had been alive, they would have disowned me. As it was, I was a rich bad arse son of a bitch, and I wasn't afraid to let everyone else know it. In the politest way possible, of course. My wife was not completely open to the idea of rubbing your wealth in other people's faces.

Ah well, there's time for everything.

We had been planning to settle down for a few months in London. It couldn't hurt, really, five or six months. Especially if it meant having an extravagant apartment to annoy Hermione with.

She seemed happy, and that was all that I could ask for. It seemed she had everything she was looking for at the moment, so I could rest happily and be selfish with my own needs. She had to come first, in my mind. It was a method I used to keep sane. If she was _there, _there was no need to dwell on the past. She was my compromise. If I could please her, my past would be pardoned.

It was a safe bet to make of course.

Women outlive men. Look at Mrs. Zambini, for example. She's onto her eighth husband already. Although... that probably isn't the best example to have given. Regardless, Hermione wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It was alright to use her as my Raison d'être.

At least, that was what I had hoped.

/

It was a going to be a sunny day in May when I was woken up at five in the morning to be told that it was time to get up and get ready.

Not only was it a Sunday, but it was first day I had off where I was supposed to have nothing to do but sleep in. That is, until, Harry fucking Potter decided to get married. Damn him and his bad timing! I suppose I couldn't hold it against him. After all, I had asked him to come to my wedding as well.

I supposed he had had to wake up at an ungodly hour as well on my wedding by his redheaded overly excited girlfriend who had decided to play wedding planner. Why didn't women understand? Men don't _like _to help with all that decorating crap.

Nevertheless, I got up and dutifully ate my breakfast, which was a lumpy porridge. I wondered if she realized that the porridge was lukewarm at best and extremely... unsavoury, politely put. She was busy dealing with her hair in the mirror and I wondered if she had even bothered to eat any breakfast herself.

Typical women.

Sighing, I left the bowl half full and went back to bed to catch maybe ten more minutes of sleep. Ten minutes, unfortunately, turned into twenty five and she caught me clearly not getting ready.

"Draco! What the _hell_! I told you, we have to be at the flower shop first thing it opens!" I grunted in response and I knew she was mad at me. "I _told _you to go to sleep early yesterday," she shouted from what mysteriously sounded like my home office. Thinking that she couldn't _possibly _have gotten past the wards I'd put up, I continued resting my tired head on my pillow.

That is, until, my wand started buzzing, alerting me that someone – by the name of Hermione Malfoy, presumably – had broken through the wards in my office.

Grunting, I pulled the pillow over my head. I had placed more wards around the cabinet that held all of the drafts of my book that she so desperately wanted to read. She couldn't _possibly _get past those too, could she? Not possible. It was too early in the morning for anyone to get past wards...

Until, of course, my wand started buzzing again, indicating that she had indeed managed to get past those wards as well.

That is when I jumped out of bed and raced to my office, finding her standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and tapping her foot. Behind her, the door to my secret cabinet was standing wide open behind her, the papers noticeably untouched. I cringed, realizing that she had played me. She was glaring at me and pointed to the door, indicating that I had to go shower now.

When I finally managed to shower and get dressed (which was a feat in itself), Hermione was waiting for me, rather impatiently, pouring coffee in a mug to go. "We're so _late, _Draco! This is all your fault. You better tell Ginny this was your fault! She's going to be _so _worried..."

By that time, I was already ignoring her, attempting to find my socks. She continued to mutter, putting things away, mixing cream into my coffee and handing it to me. She saw my bowl of half eaten porridge on the kitchen table, rolled her eyes and picked it up.

Picking it up and taking a bite of it, probably because she was starving, she made a gagging sound and spit it all back into the bowl. When I stared at her, she looked flustered.

"This is lumpy and uncooked! Couldn't you at least have _said _something before I ate it?"

What a woman...feeding me nasty porridge and then blaming me for her horrible breakfast experience. I completely ignored her and instead, made my way to the door to her exclamations of "don't you ignore me, Draco Malfoy!" but I was too tired to do anything but cling to her arm and let her apparate us to the flower shop.

/

After picking up a million flowers, decorating the room with said flowers in just the right position, attending to the bride's last minute dress adjustments, and organizing the catering, music, tables, seating plans and the cake order – it was finally all over and all I had to do was stick with the groom.

Actually, the more specific instructions were: "_Don't leave Harry's side or I will cut your head off, got it? Don't screw this up! We've worked so hard!" _To which I wanted to say – YOU? I did all the heavy lifting and organizing! You just stood there and bossed me around!

However, much to Harry's delight, I did no such thing, but just nodded and allowed her to go into the next room to check on one thing or another.

Collapsing into a chair while Harry adjusted his dress robes in front of the mirror, I almost fell asleep. This was harder than running the entire empire that was Malfoy Industries. How the hell is that even possible?

"You look more tired than I do," Harry called over his shoulder, quite gleefully too, the bloody maggot.

"Don't you worry," I responded, irritated. "You'll be just like me in a few weeks time. Welcome to the married couples league."

Harry snorted and I let out a chuckle or two after my glare melted. He wasn't a bad mate to have around. I wondered how it would have been like if I hadn't been such a pureblood bigoted jerk back in first year and he had actually been my friend. It could have been possible, if I hadn't been a prat. We would have had our differences, we _still _have our differences, but he can be considered trustworthy.

Not to mention, having the head Auror as a friend can get you in quite a few places.

"It's not so bad, really," I found myself saying. "It's just like it was before." I yawned. "But on second thought, she's a lot bossier now than she used to be."

"You would know."

"You wouldn't?"

"Nah. She loves me too much to see me be bossed around," he said, grinning at me through the mirror.

"Bastard!" I replied, my grin as equally wide.

He smiled, genuinely this time. "Prat!"

/

All in all, Hermione's work seemed to have paved through. The planning had been impeccable, the staff almost deadly organized, and the venue quite pretty indeed. The marriage itself, I almost _did _sleep through. If I had been sitting in a chair instead of standing near Potter I would have fallen asleep. As it was, Hermione would literally have killed me if I had, so I maintained my posture.

Not that it was easy or anything.

When it was all over and done and we had each congratulated the married couple, I was more than ready to apparate home and go back to sleep. Instead, Hermione had me go over with her to the Weasleys' house. The Burrow or something like that. I'm not sure I remember what it's called – especially not in this sleepy state.

Instead of letting me fall asleep on the couch, the family wanted to talk to me. Why had I charmed them into liking me? Why wouldn't they all just let me alone? If I couldn't sleep, at least they could try not attempt to stimulate my overly tired brain!

Common courtesy! Where has it _gone_?

After a lot of delectable food and chattering which Hermione insisted that I be a part of, I was walking dead on my feet but no one seemed to notice. At least, they didn't care, even if they did notice. But I suppose it wasn't my day to be coddled after. It was Potters.

But wait. EVERY day is Harry Potter day!

I tell you, life is not fair to Malfoys.

Eventually, the party moved into the living room. I was followed to sit next to the cozy fire by a very quiet George Weasley. The man had become very subdued at the loss of his twin. Sure, he could still cause a riot and speak his mind when he needed to, but he certainly was not as flamboyant as I recalled him from school.

It was as if he had lost a part of himself with his twin's death. I knew how he felt, I had seen it before. Goyle behaved in a similar fashion after he had lost Crabbe to the flames of the Room of Requirement. It had not been a pleasant sight to behold.

"You're tired," he noted, quietly. I simply shrugged.

He pushed a chessboard between us and I almost groaned at the thought of having to put thought towards winning a chess game.

He chuckled. "Not to worry," he whispered. And then he cast a spell. "This is a cheating chess board. I invented it because Ron... I mean, someone had been getting on my nerves." I visibly cringed and he nodded his head, accepting my unspoken apology for his second lost brother. "Your side will play for you. I've put a digusment charm on you, so to them..." he gestured to the rest of the room and staring pointedly at me.

"It looks like I'm playing chess! That's kind of you."

He simply nodded and pointed to the pillow behind me. Smiling, I lay down, very much aware of the fact that the lone twin was watching me get comfortable. With a grateful sigh, I took my very much needed half an hour nap.

From that day on, I never looked at George Weasley the same ever again.

**A/N: Unsigned Reviews**

**Alexybath: **Thank you as always for your review! Your enthusiasm really made me laugh. Riddle _is _hilarious, and I have to congratulate you for guessing right. *WINK*! I hope this gives you a partial answer for what's happily ever after like for a Slytherin and and Gryffindor. Though, maybe the next few answers will change your mind.

**Xenaz3: **Thanks! I'm glad you liked it. I also really, really, really, REALLY enjoy communicating with my reviewers. For most author's it's kind of like crack. So thank you so much for giving me my daily dosage. Draco and Tom really are quite sexy indeed. :p


	29. Dreams and Sex

Quick thank you to: pardonnez, iloveuO-o, Anonymous reviewer, Alexybath, semantics, thedirtysockfair, weirdgiraffe and xenaz3 for reviewing.

I HAVE GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS.

Bad news: Looking through my outlines for the rest of this story, I realized I'd left a huge plot hole. So, in order to fix it, I had to rewrite this chapter. However, when I was nearly through rewriting it – my mother was rushed to the hospital and _everything _in my life was disrupted, including finishing this rewritten chapter.

Good news: My mother's fine now. The time I took off from school and work to spend with her allowed me lots of time to write so now I have rough drafts up to chapter 34! Unfortunately, because now I'm going to be working double time and with school starting up again, I'll still only be able to post once a week. But it'll be a lot easier now to!

Enough about me – how are you all?

**Chapter 29: Dreams and Sex **

**Hermione: **

Life for me was going good, so naturally, fate decided to fuck with me once more. Hermione Granger, happy? My god! That's not normal. Let's fix this abnormality _immediately! _

Oh, so alright. I'm exaggerating just a little bit. It wasn't the end of the world, certainly. Well, technically, since the person in question was from another world entirely – perhaps it _was _the end of a world. Just not my preferred world.

What I mean to say is: Tom Riddle is a fucking jerk.

Not that that's any new information. Everyone _knows _he's a jerk. He probably came out of his mother's womb being a jerk! It is common knowledge that he is a jerk. So why is it that, despite being the supposed smartest witch of my age, I keep ignoring the fact that he's out to make my life miserable? When am I going to get it? Before or after he frustrates me to death?

But perhaps I have left my nonexistent audience confused. I must have thrown you all in for a loop! No, how could you possibly know what the biggest arse in the world has done this time? Sure, you know he's done something – Tom Riddle is _always _up to something, but I suppose details might be in order.

It had been a normal day when I made my way up to the Astronomy tower.

A year later, and I still had the tendency to come see him late. I felt a little guilty about it, sure, but the real reason for my guilt was that my visits had begun to dwindle.

A year had gone by and no other vision had come to pass. I could feel it in my bones that I had time. I had _years _of life to come. This prophecy, the task that I had to carry out that was apparently important for the existence of the world, it was on hold. I had time to figure it all out. We didn't have to rush.

Sure, I was concerned that I was eventually going to die – but everyone dies. I knew I was going to die happy. And in the meanwhile, I would do something worthwhile with my life. I didn't have to rush to Tom Riddle every night so he could babysit me while I came up with explanations of what I had seen. We didn't _really _make much progress.

All I _really _had intended to do that day was tell him – hey, you do your thinking on your own time and I'll do it on mine. When I have something, I'll let you know – okay? Okay! Great! Done deal, see you later!

How the hell was I supposed to know he was going to pull freakish bastard move on me? Well, I mean... besides the whole _I'm out to destroy the world and you better swear your allegiance to me or I will kill you _act.

Oh alright. I should have seen it coming...

Walking up the steps to the Astronomy tower was, as usual, a treacherous excursion. I always arrived at the top a little winded and tired. I bet I looked sweaty and ruffled, and it probably amused the hell out of him too. What did he have to worry about? He always looked impeccable and was always perfectly dressed.

That particular day, I found myself arriving just as the clock struck noon. Riddle had somehow conjured a table upon which lay all kinds of sandwiches and lunchtime pastries. I sat down and helped myself to a Cherry Danish. It was rather surprising that he remembered I liked them...

But then again, the man had eyes like a hawk.

When I didn't say anything, he decided to start the conversation. "I was thinking," he began between delicate bites of his sandwich, "we're missing an essential player in the prophecy. I think there is something _more_. Dumbledore, the old coot, suggested this and I thought I'd pass it on to you."

He paused, waiting for my reaction. I, on the other hand, didn't really want to look at him or talk to him... because it would probably give me away. But eventually, I had to look up from my food and acknowledge what he had said.

"That's nice. Thank you."

This was all that I could manage, of course. So, I returned to my pastry. I didn't even need to look up to know that he had an eyebrow raised and was staring at me calculatingly. I could feel his gaze penetrate me from all the way across the table. It was a relief to know that he could not perform occlumency in this world.

I heard his barely audible sigh and felt the air shift as he leaned forward with his elbows on the table, supporting his head in his arms.

"Well? What is it now?"

I braved a glance at him, saying nothing.

His eyes rolled and he leaned back into his chair, regarding me. "I cannot help you," he enunciated, "if you do not tell me what is wrong."

With an eye roll of my own, I finally _did _look at him properly.

"Nothing is wrong, Riddle."

He grinned. "I thought we were well onto a first name basis now, _Hermione. _Why so evasive, anyhow, if there is indeed nothing wrong?"

"Just a lot of work for a prophecy, I guess," I offered shrugging.

He mimicked me, smirking, then made his way to the ledge on which he sat cross legged. And from his perch he watched me, still calculatingly, eating an apple. I realized that he looked a lot like the devil, fallen from grace. Beautiful, long limbed, raven haired evil son of a bitch. Yet still, you wanted to trust him.

"Bad day?" he asked, breaking the silence.

I laughed out loud. He had a way of confirming my theories without even realizing it. Yes, he _was _an untrustworthy devil. Yet, I still found myself counting him as a friend. What else could he be? "No, actually," I responded smiling. "I had a wonderful day. Draco and I went to Diagon Alley for dinner."

At the mention of Draco, like always, his features were darkened by a scowl. I was sure he wasn't even aware of the expression. Throwing the half eaten apple over his shoulder, he sucked each finger clean and then rubbed his hands together. The action seemed so perverse, I actually looked away.

"So, a third player?" I asked. He only nodded, indicating that he had no idea who it could be either. This could be my opportunity. Maybe I could break it to him gently. "I think I'll go contemplate it, yes? And when I have something, I'll come back and let you know. Okay?"

He just nodded, seemingly not paying attention. "Okay. Tomorrow, perhaps we can go over any possible candidates you've come up with."

Damn. This was going to be harder than I thought.

"Um... I don't think I'll have anything good enough to give you by tomorrow..."

He stared at me critically now, as if sensing something completely off about my statement. I could see a small frown begin to form on his face and dreaded what was about to come out of his mouth. Why was I so afraid? I didn't know at the time, but now it's clearly justified.

"I hardly expect you to have decent answers by tomorrow, Granger," he responded, slowly. It didn't escape my notice that he refused to call me by my proper surname.

"Yes. I know. I think I'll see you when I think I _do _have decent answers. These things take time, as I'm sure you're aware." He nodded, slowly again, as if waiting for me to make my point. The trouble was, I already _had _made my point. He just didn't seem to be getting it. Getting up, hoping this was the last of it and that he would figure it out long after I had left, I walked towards the door. "So I'll see you whenever, then," I called back, waving over my shoulder.

Before I had managed to open the door wide enough to slip through, he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. "Wait," he whispered into my ear. "What exactly are you saying, Hermione Granger?"

I turned around, a little flushed and short of breath. Luck just was never on my side, was it? Miserable bastard...

"I'm saying... we might make more progress if we actually work on things before coming to meet. It's quite a waste of time, don't you think?"

His eyes narrowed. "You're calling me a waste of time?"

"No, no! I –"

"All I _do _is spend time attempting to figure out this goddamn prophecy of yours! And you're calling _me _a waste of time?" he fumed.

"Riddle that's not what I was saying! I –"

"Then _what _exactly are you saying?" I opened my mouth to explain _exactly _what I was saying, but no words came out. His expression was too furious and he was blocking my only exit. I had no option but to back away, shut my mouth, and think. "Well?" he asked, his arms crossed and tapping a foot on the stone floor, waiting.

"Um... I'm saying... we could be more productive if we...have um..." He rolled his eyes. "What? I'm _saying! _We could make a lot of progress this way and then we won't have to put in so much effort meeting every night –"

"You mean _you _won't have to put any effort into coming here," he stated, rather coldly. Well, what the hell was his problem? "What am I, some all knowing being you can take advantage of easily? Do you expect me to just sit here and help you with your goddamn life?"

Well. He had said it first.

"Yeah. Pretty much," I responded bluntly. Okay, so I'm a bit of a bitch sometimes. His eyes widened a bit at my response and I almost cringed, but held the urge. "I mean, what _is _this supposed to be?"

He shrugged and then practically glared at me. "How about you tell me, since you're so aware?"

"I... thought you were here to help me with the prophecy. I was just...trying to make it more efficient..."

"You mean, make the process of taking advantage of my skills more efficient!" With that he stormed out like the dramatic bastard he is, and I simply had to follow him down the steep flight of stairs.

"God, Riddle! You're such a girl!" I shouted after him. "I'm _leaving! _And I'll come back when I have enough information to present to you, you goddamn git! Come here and _listen to me!" _

Unfortunately, he did just what I asked of him. He stopped, turned, climbed the few steps that separated us and pinned me against the cold stone wall. He was breathing heavily as I'm sure I was and his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. We were wandering into unstable territory here and I was almost afraid.

Well, at least this was better than being an unresponsive wall.

"If you're not back here _tomorrow, _at the _usual _time, I will personally make sure your life is a _living hell_," he hissed. And with a last squeeze of my wrists, he let go and continued to make his way down the stairs off to god knows where.

Maybe an unresponsive wall wasn't so bad after all.

I had all but forgotten the argument Riddle and I had had the previous night until it was time to go to bed again. I was certainly tired and thought – hey, what's the _worst _Riddle can do? He's dead.

It was unfortunately the wrong way to go about things. If there is one thing you can be certain of about Tom Riddle, it is that he never lets a grudge go. If he does not get his way, he will make your life miserable until you give it to him. I had thought I could get past all of these things, because really – what _can _a dead person do from beyond?

Apparently, they can do just enough to make you go mental.

When I went to sleep that night, I made the conscious decision not to let Riddle have his way. So, naturally, I did not go visit him. But when I finally fell asleep after fighting with myself for hours, I still found myself at Hogwarts. It was hazy at first, but sure enough we were in Riddle's bedroom, the same I had first found myself in all those months ago.

I could feel the breeze, I could feel the soft sheets under my head and I could definitely smell his musky scent on them. Most importantly, I could feel him lying behind me, just waiting for me to acknowledge his presence. Eventually, I felt stupid just lying there. He knew I knew he was there – I should just man up and get it over with.

"Okay, Riddle. You win –" I began, turning around but was shocked into silence when I found him staring up at me, completely _nude_, and covered only by a sheet. That is, just _barely _covered by a sheet. And let me just say, the package seemed... quite impressive. Impressive enough for it to make my mouth drop open. The bastard just smirked. What the hell was he thinking, lying in bed naked?

"I happened to be thinking of you," he supplied, answering my thoughts.

What the hell! He could see my _thoughts! _How? I started to panic of course, true to my nature. Attempting to get out of bed turned out to be a bad idea, for he just grabbed me and proceeded to trap me under him.

"You have to admit," he whispered, his lips barely an inch away from mine. "You've wanted this just as much as I do."

And then he proceeded to kiss me.

That was when I woke up, shooting straight up in bed, sweating and completely disturbed. Draco woke up beside me, concerned, but I just shook him off.

So this is what he had been talking about. He had a very good weapon up his sleeve... but I was Hermione Granger. I was _not _going to see him until I had something concrete to give him. He was not going to win this! I lay down to go back to sleep, but found I wasn't sleepy anymore.

And indeed, sleep did not come back to me that night.

/

Unfortunately, I had signed up for the losing side of a pointless battle. Every night, I would go to bed dreading sleep for just cause. But eventually, I would _have _to lay there and try to get it over with, lest Draco be suspicious.

And every night, I woke up in his bed, next to his very naked form after which he proceeded to kiss me. Normally, I would bolt awake at this point and wake Draco up in the process. But eventually, I began to grow tired. An hour or two of sleep every night was not enough to sustain a person who had a full time job and a social life that required attention.

I began to slip up. I wouldn't wake in time and so I found out what happened next.

At first it wasn't _too _bad. Riddle would continue kissing me, running his hands over my night clothes (whichever clothing I had decided to fall asleep in that night), over my bare skin. But then, it decidedly started to get worse. He would rip open my clothing and devour my body with his beautiful plump lips. He'd start from my neck, along my collar bone and by the time he got to my breasts...

I'd wake up sweating, crying out.

It concerned Draco to hell. He would attempt to soothe me, make suggestions that I would pay no attention to until I assured him it was okay to go back to sleep. And when he finally listened, he would catch up on his sleep, while I just lay there holding him tightly, not daring to go back to sleep lest Riddle haunt me again.

Which he did, every night. But the worst part was – I would never _stop _him. It was completely consensual sex. Or, sexual actions, more like, since I wouldn't stay there long enough for him to actually get to it.

I just didn't know how to say no.

Eventually, Draco had had enough. He brewed a batch of Dreamless Sleep Potion himself, despite my assurances that I could manage without. He literally forced it down my throat before bed and had me tucked in against him.

And then my hell _truly _began, because this wasn't really a dream. It was a projection of thoughts and memories not from my subconscious – but another world entirely. A dreamless sleep potion wouldn't stop these images from getting through. It would only prevent me from waking up.

And so there I was, laying on my back with my clothes around me in tatters.

When his lips finally closed around my nipple, the door slammed open. There stood Draco, my _saviour. _Assuming that he was, indeed, here to save me. Strangely enough, they did not fight as Draco would have done in the real world.

After all this was a dream.

And then I realized, I wasn't imagining Draco just like I wasn't imagining Riddle. The dreamless sleep potion had blocked _my _subconscious. That must have meant that Draco was projecting into my mind just as Riddle was! Not the Draco that was currently sleeping beside me in London, but the Draco that I had met in the dream world, just as I had met Riddle.

I could feel them both fighting for control over what the dream would depict and I could feel Draco losing. Eventually, though, they seemed to reach an impasse. With a roll of his eyes, Riddle gestured for him to come lay next to us.

My heart almost stopped.

Almost as if they had it choreographed, there were now two mouths marking their way along my body, two pairs of hands groping and feeling... Whether it was being sandwiched between two very talented, gorgeous men or the relief that Draco was here to see me through it, I couldn't help but let out a strangled moan.

**Draco: **

The first thing I did when I woke up was check on Hermione. When I found her snug against me and fast asleep, I let out a relieved sigh.

_Finally_, a decent night's sleep. I was glad that I had finally put my foot down and had her drink the potion. Perhaps she would be able to think clearly and explain what had been bothering her with a decent night's rest. Stroking her hair caused her to wake up. But she wasn't startled in the least. Instead, she smiled up at me.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked, smiling back. The question made her smile dim a bit, but she nodded. I was glad. "Good. How about you shower first? I'll make us some breakfast."

Before I had gotten out of bed, she grasped my arm, telling me to stay. "There's something I need to tell you..." she started. I sat there, while she got up and composed herself. I supposed it was going to be an explanation of what had been keeping her up at nights. "You know how... well, when I had that little accident over at Harry's and had to go to St. Mungos?"

Well, that threw me for a bender. She was having nightmares about the psychotic Weasley pushing her down the stairs? Of course, it was understandable. But I had to make sure she knew she was safe. "You know he can't get you, right?"

She looked at me confused. "Who?"

"...Weasley. You're safe here, with me. You know that, right?"

She just nodded, waving her hand dismissively. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about." I waited then, for the real explanation, thoroughly confused. "You remember how... I was in a coma for a few days?" I nodded, slowly, remembering how painful those days had been for me. My heart clenched at the memory of thinking I would lose her forever.

"I..." she seemed to be having difficulty stringing her words together. "You're going to think I'm crazy," she muttered.

"No! No. You can tell me anything, love. What is it?"

The next words out of her mouth were said so fast and jumbled together that I wasn't sure I heard it all correctly. "Well, I wasn't really in a coma, I was just in another world. Kind of like an alternate reality, but not. It was like _beyond. _I mean, it's where people go when they go beyond... It's happened to Harry so I'm _not _insane! And well -"

"Slow down!" She stopped mid sentence. "You mean, you were dead?"

The thought scared the crap out of me.

"Well, no," she paused to consider the possibility. "Not dead," she concluded. I let out a sigh of relief. "But a bit like leaving my body. It's as if I can visit _that _world when I like."

Alright. So she did sound a little crazy. "And...have you been visiting that world when you like?" I asked. She had said Potter had had a similar experience. Perhaps I would ask him about it.

She nodded. "That's what I wanted to tell you about... I was given a prophecy when I was there."

Ah damn. If she told me she was the new Chosen One I would smash something.

But instead, the next fifteen minutes changed my life. She told me a whole host of absurd things. About how she and I were meant to be together by fate, of how she'd seen visions of the future and that some of these visions had already come to pass. She told me she had a mission to fulfill in this life, that she had some sort of purpose that she hadn't figured out yet.

She told me she had seen herself die.

I felt the life go out of me. I felt as if I could literally faint and run a hundred miles all at the same time. She was insane, that's all there was to it. Hermione wasn't going to die. At least, not until we were good and old. She was going to live until she was at least a hundred! I was going to make sure of it.

I was not going to let her fucking die.

She was still speaking while my world was slowly coming to an end inside my mind. She kept going on and on about this other world of hers, about this prophecy that she and apparently I was a part of. It was nonsensical. It was...unrealistic. But most of all, it was just impossible. Hermione Granger was not going to die.

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" I asked in a daze, not caring that she had been in the middle of describing something.

She stared at me concernedly. "I didn't think that it was a good time..."

"_Why didn't you tell me SOONER?_" I yelled, getting out of bed. My heart was pounding and I could barely breathe. I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Why did you _tell _me?" I yelled at her face. "I need time to keep you safe! I can't just..."

When she pulled me into a hug, I felt tears prickle my eyes. She wasn't going to leave me.

"I'm not going to lose you, Hermione," I whispered into her hair. I felt her nod and I felt her tears fall onto my chest. "I'm not going to lose you."

**A/N: **So, this sort of brings ahead the question of what Tom Riddle wants (was/is planning) – Hope that was good enough for you pardonnez!

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Anonymous Reviewer without a name: **I'm glad you liked my story. : ) Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

**Alexybath: **Ah yes, the titles are a stroke of genius (sometimes!) And I always thought that Draco would make a more fulfilling friend for Harry if he wasn't such a prat in the books. I shall try my best to write my Draco oriented chapters – no promises though.


	30. Salvation

A/N: Happy Canada Day! (Yes, I'm Canadian). To all my American readers, happy early 4th of July. Be safe, don't drink and drive or I will hunt you down and whip your arse. So how was your week? Mine sucked because I've been working waaaay overtime. And my summer courses start again next week. Bummer.

To all of you who messaged me/reviewed asking after my mother – THANK YOU, I so appreciate it. She's doing very well now. Thank you as well to: Jade2099, semantics, weirdgiraffe, xenaz3, pardonnez, Alexybath, Rebekah, and JRRTFrk for reviewing.

Enjoy this chapter. You finally get to see why Draco is in the dream world.

**Chapter 30: Salvation **

**Hermione: **

We decided it would be best that the both of us take a day off of work for Draco's sake. For hours he could not bear to look at me and I really reconsidered my decision for divulging the secret I had been keeping from him for months.

But I came to the conclusion that after what Riddle had put my mind through... it was probably for the best that I kept no secrets from Draco. Sure, I didn't exactly _tell _him that I practically had had a threesome with the Dark Lord... but close enough. He really would've thought I was crazy had I told him exactly who was helping me figure out this prophecy.

Some secrets are better left unsaid.

But still, I felt guilty for including him in on the bigger picture. Did he really deserve to be put through the countdown to the exact moment when I would die? Even I had no idea when that would be or if it would be soon or rather years from now.

He seemed to have caved in on himself and I was afraid I had caused him to lose all of the time and effort he had spent in therapy. I knew that he had it in him to deal with this; I knew he could manage without me. All he had to do was process it, that's all. It would be okay. He would pick himself up as he always did in the end, and help me work out the finer intricacies of fate.

But as the hours slowly ticked by and he refused to even look up at me lest I magically disappear out of his arms, I began to lose hope. By the time the sun had set I was contemplating going to the dream world just to kick Riddle's dead arse.

Hours into the night, he finally spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"What are we going to do?"

I was startled at first. Allowing myself to sit up, but with his arms still firmly closed around me, I attempted to place his features in the dark. "We're going to figure out what I was meant to do and we're going to be happy. I'm not _going _anywhere, Draco."

But he hushed me before I could add anything else.

"What about this other world of yours?"

Pressing my hand to his cheek, I felt the light stubble that had grown there. In the light you'd barely be able to see it, it was that light in colour, but with his face in my hands I knew it was there. I kissed his cheek and felt him tense.

"What about it?" I asked, sighing at the contact.

"I don't want you to go there anymore."

That gave me pause. I wasn't certain if he was being serious or if this was just a reaction to the news. Either way, he had to understand that this was something I _had _to do. It wasn't an option. Fate wanted us to do it, and people who go against fate always end up on the wrong side of the tracks. Or more accurately, on the tracks themselves.

"Draco," I started with complete intentions of attempting to persuade him otherwise, but he beat me to it.

"Hermione, you're not going to meddle in this business anymore, do you _understand?_ I've lost enough people in my life time. I'm not going to lose you too! Do you hear me? I've seen enough!"

I didn't know what to say. I could feel him breathing roughly, his breath coming out in short huffs. He was being absolutely serious and he was genuinely afraid. Draco Malfoy was a Machiavellian at heart and nothing got in his way from keeping his kingdom safe. I was not to go back to my dream world and that was that.

"But Draco –"

"No."

"Draco, I –"

"_No._"

"But you're _there_, Draco. You're there," I finally said, exasperated.

I hadn't meant to divulge that information, honestly I hadn't. It had just slipped out as a last minute defence.

"What do you mean, I'm _there?" _he questioned, harshly. He hadn't realized that we had wandered into dangerous territory yet. I just looked away, glad that the room had no light in it so he couldn't see my expression. "Hermione, answer me."

"It's okay... um. Okay. I won't go back there."

But he wasn't to be dissuaded.

"What did you mean, I'm there?" he enquired again, more softly this time. I could hear an edge of fear to his voice this time around. "No. Don't try to get out of it, just tell me for godsakes. I... I deserve to know."

So I did. I had no choice.

"Well... a part of your soul. Well, it's in that world, Draco. But it's okay. It's... not going to make a difference, okay?"

But no matter what I would say, nothing would soothe him from what I had just told him. I wished he'd hate me for it, but I knew he was too kind for that. No, he'd only hate himself.

Because I'd confirmed his worst fears. Everything that he had gone through, everything that he had done in the war had left him damaged and this was proof for him. He was no longer a human in his own eyes. For what kind of _human _was able to do the things he had done?

I felt like I was going to be sick. I had singlehandedly destroyed him. It wouldn't matter if I told him a million times that it wasn't his fault. It wouldn't matter if I told him I loved him. I had just given him self destruction and a just cause for self hate.

If there was anything I had learned from the aftermath of the war, it was that people needed to speak of their experiences, live them and let them live.

Experiences like that were not meant to be horded, especially the kind Draco hid from me. Of course, he had given me a cursory glance, yes. He had thought I deserved as much... but this, this was a secret that he had kept with him. Close to his heart. If he didn't let it go, it would destroy him. Especially now that he thought of himself as a sinner.

"Tell me, Draco," I whispered to him.

But instead of confessing what was on his mind, he pulled away from me so abruptly I almost fell. "Tell you _what_?" he nearly shouted. "You don't need to know _anything_. After all, you're the one who keeps secrets around here!"

"Draco, I just want to help! It'll help you, trust me, just...come here," I urged him. Getting up from my spot on the bed, I took a few tentative steps towards him but all he did was move away until his back was pressed against the door. "It's okay to tell me," I almost whispered.

He shook his head. "You don't deserve to know."

His voice was tortured, his eyes wild. I could literally feel his nerves fraying and knew that if I pushed him any further, he would snap. I was afraid for him. When I made to come closer, he shook his head, opened the door of our bedroom and slipped through.

And with that, he was gone.

/

That week, Draco didn't come home during the evenings.

While I would briefly see him at work, it was quite obvious he was avoiding me. Why he felt the need to carry it out to _this _extent, I will never know. I didn't even want to know why a part of his soul was gone. I was content to live _without _that information. And when Hermione Granger is willing to part with knowledge, you should know it's for an important reason.

It _was _for an important reason. I missed him. It was like an aching in my chest that refused to subside. I felt like a fool for bringing something up that was obviously too painful for him to discuss. I cursed my big mouth for not controlling itself... I was sorry, but he wouldn't give me the opportunity to fix it.

It was like that month of madness all over again, where he would barely acknowledge me. Yet, this time it was worse. He knew exactly who I was, he was aware of everything around him. He was married to me and he could not bear to look at me. But this time, it was my fault. All my fault.

I knew he hated me, for the moment. He had every right to despise me...

I knew he acted like he was alright. He was staying with Harry at Grimmauld place and Harry assured me that he was acting as normal as could be... but this was not normal.

This was hell.

Rather than force him to associate himself with me, I just waited. It was better that way. Of course, this time around it was quite a lot better because I had all of my friends here and no reason to hide from them that Draco and I were..._fighting. _

I was told all couples had such moments, I shouldn't worry.

I wasn't worrying, no. But I went to bed lonely and woke up lonelier without him there. And for the first time, I regretted telling him something about me. And I wished that maybe, just maybe, fate did not exist but just a large number of coincidences.

Unfortunately for me, I was proven wrong.

**Draco: **

_It was not easy to walk around or be stealthy in Death Eater robes. Was that why You Know Who liked them? He commands attention, he trusts no one, and he goes in with a bang..._

_Shivering, I stood behind several hooded figures that blocked my view. That was good. I wasn't anxious to look at another muggle being tortured and mercilessly killed. But the thought of them dying like rats made bile rise in my throat. I could hear them clearly, of course. They were only a few feet away. _

_I was too much of a coward to do anything, though. So I just stood there. _

_This was his pastime. He actually _enjoyed_ this. It was a sport – muggle hunting. It wasn't that he hated muggles, I eventually realized. After all, he hunted muggles, half bloods and purebloods alike. He was just a sick psychopath and I was too much of a coward to do anything but go along with it. _

_I had learned very early that if I did what was asked of me – which was very little – all I had to do was stand there and look inconspicuous and I would be left alone. _

_It worked well enough. Most of the time... _

_I was not so lucky that day. We were in a small muggle village, one that I could barely even recall the name of. The bloodshed was massive and the casualties worse. I found that if I didn't look, if I didn't pay attention, I could freeze my emotions. I could not feel so sick of everything going around me. But the Dark Lord can sense weakness. He can smell if off you. _

_And the Dark Lord is not forgiving of weakness. _

_He called me forward. It was simply a bored gesture, just a beckoning of his disfigured hand. But still, silence fell among his followers like a hush and I walked through the bodies blocking my way towards him in trepidation. All that could be heard were whimpers and pleading from the victims. _

_They were largely ignored. _

_As I kneeled before him, I saw the open eyes of a very dead muggle staring up at me from just a few feet away. I could probably have touched him, he lay so close. Blood bubbled up from his mouth. He was very much dead, rivers of life flowing out of him. Was he so different from a wizard? Was he any different than I was? I knew if I had been tortured like that, my blood would flow just the same. _

_Briefly, an image flickered through my mind. A forest hiding a massive Quidditch Arena from view. Death Eaters amusing themselves by torturing the muggles that ran a campsite... And myself, telling Granger to keep her head down. Had I known all those years back that blood didn't make a difference? _

_I had known. I was exactly like the dead muggle lying on the ground. _

_But we were not the same. We were worlds different. He had stood there to defend his family against a threat he knew he could not win against, a family that was kneeling and morning his dead body near me. I, on the other hand, was a coward. _

"_Rise, Draco Malfoy," I heard my worst nightmare hiss. _

_I rose. He gestured towards the muggle family before us. I heard him whisper a spell and with a flash of green light, the mother was dead. A little boy who couldn't have been more than three stared up at us, a little scared but mostly just confused. He didn't understand what was happening. He was too innocent. _

_But of course, the Dark Lord frightened him. He scampered towards me. I could hear the Death Eaters laugh at the action. The little boy with chocolate hair and big bright eyes hid behind my legs. Didn't he know I couldn't save him? I couldn't save anyone, not even myself. _

_The Dark Lord was bored. He gestured at the boy. "Dispose of the vermin," he said, his tone careless. _

_Dread seeped through me, and fear was what consumed my thoughts. I couldn't kill this boy. I couldn't. He was pure... angelic... he was _life_. I could feel him clutching at the leg of my trousers. I wished for him to understand. He needed to run now. _

_But he stayed right there, right in the claws of danger. _

_I could hear my master sigh impatiently when I made no move to fulfill his orders. With a snap of his fingers, two death eaters dragged one of their own before us. Pulling down the hood, I found it was my mother. I could see the fear of a trapped animal in her eyes, but she stood there proud, confidant that her son had it in him to be a killer. I was not a killer. I was not a killer..._

_I am not a killer. _

_But soon, the Dark Lord snapped his fingers again, and I had no choice but to move the little innocent child away from my legs and mutter the one spell I knew would leave me damaged forever. _

"_Avada Kedavra." _

/

I woke up gasping, glad that I had not screamed.

Sweating, I looked towards the side table and found that the clock read just past four in the morning. Sighing, I fell back down towards the pillows and sheets of Potter's newly refurbished house. My silencing charm had worn off by now, I realized. I could hear Harry and Ginny whispering to each other from the other side of the wall.

I knew they were talking about me. I knew they were concerned, of course. It's not every day a Malfoy comes to stay with you, has nightmares and has you swear not to divulge that information to his beloved wife.

Fancy that. A Malfoy having friends and love. Wonders will never cease.

Eventually, Harry and Ginny quieted down once more and I lay there staring at the ceiling. The remnants of the dream – no, _memory_ – were still clinging to my mind. The images, which would always be there, refused to leave.

Luna had said that this was a natural process. She had said I would have to let go eventually.

I was ready to let go but they wouldn't let go of me. But of course, a part of me could never let go of them, specifically the little boy that haunted my dreams. My soul was split and they were clinging onto it for me. He was most likely there, the little boy, in Hermione's other world. He was there, I could feel it. And I knew he would be asking my soul questions.

It was what I deserved. I knew the past would never leave me be. But I knew it was time to go home. I knew I couldn't run away from it forever. But frankly, I realized just then that I was selfish. I couldn't suffer through this without Hermione anymore. I wanted her to tell me that it was going to be alright in that stubborn know it all way she had. I wanted her to know that I was sorry for it all.

She had to know that I _wasn't _a killer.

But mostly, I had just worked up the courage to ask her if she had indeed seen a little boy running around in the afterlife. It was essential that I knew he was alright. I would do anything for her if she could just do this one thing for me...

Besides that, I was tired of hearing Harry Potter have sex with his wife through paper thin walls.

Deciding that there was no time like the present, even if it was well past four in the morning by now, I got up and packed my things. With the help of my wand, I was finished in under a minute and scribbling a note to the Potters to thank them for their kindness.

Apparating home, I made conscious effort to be quiet. It was late. Not only would the neighbours be sleeping, but Hermione most likely was as well. But I was glad to be home, finally. As nice as Potter claimed his house to be – I would always love this place. This was where Hermione and I had worked to create... _home. _

When I slipped in the door silently, I found Hermione sitting in an armchair, her body highlighted in the moonlight. There was a blank expression on her face. She didn't even look up to acknowledge me, but just sat there with a hand over a stomach and the other dangling over the edge of the couch, holding a piece of parchment.

Perhaps she hadn't heard me come in.

"Hermione?" I called. Putting my bag down onto the floor, I sat in front of her, perched on the coffee table.

"You were right," I told her. "It's not appropriate to run from my problems anymore. I shouldn't have, but... love? Are you alright?"

But she didn't answer me.

Instead, as if just realizing I was there, she handed me the piece of parchment that she had been clutching. It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the light and another minute for the letters on the page to stop moving.

What I found on the page made my knees hit the floor. I couldn't help but find that there were tears in my eyes. I pressed my head against her lap, and whispered a strangled thank you. I must have muttered a lot of nonsense, but this was _salvation. _

And so we remained in our positions, her bent over me, clutching me to her and me with my arms around her protectively. The letter fluttered to the floor and lay innocently, a little crumpled, but clearly visible by the moonlight that was streaming through the windows, should anyone wish to read it.

_Mrs. Malfoy, _

_We are pleased to inform you that your pregnancy test results returned positive. Congratulations. We advise you to return to St. Mungos for a counselling session with your healer. _

_Thank you, _

_Patrichia Salkins, _

_Head Healer. St. Mungos. _

**A/N: I UPDATED MY PROFILE – go look if you care. : ) **

**Unsigned Reviews**

**Alexybath: **I had been planning on doing something to show Riddle's intentions, and your input just spurred me on to be extra dramatic. So thank you! You rock my life pretty hard too. ;)

**Rebekah: **I'm glad you're enjoying! I really think he's not such a bad guy in general (Who doesn't like a bratty blond kid after all?) And no worries about unsigned reviews. I just enjoy responding and it's just easier if I know what to call you. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!


	31. Winding Up and Down

A/N: So the prophecy is finally sort of explained and Riddle is chastised! Enjoy this. I know this is kind of a filler chapter, but I needed to situate them in their present life before starting the explosive drama again. It all begins in the next chapter.

I'm updating earlier because today is my sister's birthday. So this chapter is dedicated to her.

Thank you to: Jade2099, semantics, pardonnez and Alexybath for reviewing

**Chapter 31: Winding Up and Down **

**Hermione: Five Years Later **

It was an unfortunate fact of life that having boys as your best friends and influences can cause you to form negative habits. Having lived my teenage life with Ron and Harry, then later spent the rest of my life with Draco, I generally became less of the pristine book worm student and more like..._them. _It couldn't be denied and frankly, I just wasn't going to bother doing so because Draco would take to calling me a hypocrite for hours. Or days. Or even months if nothing interesting were to happen to distract him.

That's right. I, Hermione Malfoy, am a tardy woman.

It started off as a once in a while thing that happens occasionally from time to time. It's absolutely nothing to be alarmed over, obviously. Even I am a human and I can sometimes be late, right? But then suddenly, I became perpetually late to _everything. _

Frankly, I blame having kids.

The experience does something to you that you can't explain to anyone else, but other women with children will agree with you. Suddenly, you're scatterbrained and disorganized and it doesn't even _matter _to you that you're scatterbrained and disorganized. For some reason, the only thing that interests you is chocolate, your weight, and ten minutes of quiet time. You start wish you hadn't sent the house elf to work at Hogwarts.

Draco says he still loves me, even more so now, but I'm suspicious. I think he's only staying around because our son is his pride and joy. I bet you one day I'll wake up and he'll have kidnapped the boy and left me behind to mope.

Yes, that's right. I am a mother. I have a little chocolate haired, silver eyed monkey named Scorpius who likes to cling to my leg when he's afraid. And yes, he's very much afraid right now, which doesn't help because we're already so _late. _

Draco however, found the little child's antics very amusing, but he had the decency to look chastised when I glare daggers at him.

"I don't want to go mummy, please! Papa make mum stop! I shan't! I shan't, I shan't, I shan't!"

"You _shall, _Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy! You shall! Get in the car, _now!_" But he wouldn't listen. Instead he just clung to my leg harder and I couldn't do anything about it. He had gotten too strong for me. Or had I just become abysmally weak?

In fact, I knew the only way Scorpius would get in the car was if Draco would make him in the loving way he had. But no. Draco was having too much fun watching me struggle.

Unfortunately for me, Harry Potter's children were evil brats. Not that I didn't love evil brats – I married one, for God's sake! – But they had to be put into place, really, they did. When they had come to visit a few days ago, they had poisoned my poor innocent Scorpius' mind. The boy _honestly _believed that kindergarten was a torture chamber and muggle children wanted to make soup out of his brains.

I was really going to have to have a word with Ginny.

Eventually, when I gave Draco a desperate look, he finally intervened on my behalf. He picked our little monkey up into his arms and kissed him on each cheek. Scorpius smiled widely, as if he'd won the argument. "You're not going to make me go, papa, are you?" he asked in such an innocent voice, I was almost compelled to let him go back to bed.

Draco shook his head, still smiling. "No, I'm not going to make you go, sweetheart."

Scorpius looked extremely relieved, even when Draco strapped him into the back seat of the car. He was very trusting of his father, something I was just a little enviable of. But then again, if Draco had told me to jump off a cliff, I probably would have as well, automatically assuming he would catch me or levitate me back out.

When we had started driving, I wondered what his plan was or if he even had one. I would hate to be one of those parents leaving behind a sobbing child on their first day of school. Of course they were children, but didn't they know? Education is the key to success! Besides, school is fun. Work and adulthood is not.

"You know, Hermione," Draco began, startling me out of my thoughts, "I wish my parents let _me _go to school with muggles! Just like you had gone, wasn't it so much fun? I hear it's an adventure. It's really too bad Scorpius here doesn't want to go. If he had we both would have such wonderful stories to hear, wouldn't we?"

Looking back, I found Scorpius chewing thoughtfully on his lip, contemplating his options.

"I wasn't brave enough like mum here to go to school," Draco said, addressing Scorpius. When he looked at his son through the rear view mirror, I guess he'd already realized he had accomplished what I'd failed miserably at.

"I'm brave, papa!"

Draco chuckled his attractive chuckle. "Are you, my son? We'd _love _a story."

"Okay. I'll go!" he exclaimed decidedly. "Let's go, let's go!" Scorpius shouted, nearly bouncing in his seat. Well, there was reverse psychology if I'd ever seen any.

Viewing my son's smiling face and my husband's happy smile, I rolled my eyes, leaned back in my seat, and bit the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling myself. I was still cross with the both of them after all. Scorpius for being disobedient and Draco for... well, being Draco, I suppose.

"Go where?" Draco asked, putting on a look of mock confusion. This time, I couldn't stop the smile from spreading onto my face. Draco winked at me and I stuck out my tongue, making sure Scorpius didn't note the action, lest he start imitating.

"To school!" the boy nearly shrieked, clearly overexcited at the prospect of having brave adventures to tell us about. I vaguely wondered if he'd be disappointed, but shook the thought away. Kindergarten was meant to be fun. "I'm going to school," he stated so confidently, that I was nearly shocked. It was an almost perfect imitation of Draco.

"You said you shan't go, my darling, remember?" I piped in. "So we shan't go and that's that. How about...the park?" Scorpius pouted.

"I want to go to _school, _not the park!"

"If the boy wants to go to school, he shall. But you must remember that you said you wanted this, Scorpius," said Draco, while making a left turn. I realized we had already arrived and in fact, we were five minutes early. How had he done it? I was almost tempted to ask him if he had used magic, but could come up with no possible magical explanation other than time travel.

I still couldn't get over the fact that Draco was a better driver than I was. I was going to have to eventually get over it... but it really is not fair. He was even better at cooking these days than I was because Scorpius made my mind frazzle.

We walked him to his class, in which he immediately ran in and introduced himself to everyone, much to the chagrin of his teacher who had been in mid sentence. Yes, he was definitely his father's son, if that attitude was anything to go by. He was adorable, no doubt, claiming the seat closest to the middle and refusing to take off his little Spider Man back pack. Rather than just leave immediately, we stood there and watched our son settle in.

Draco reached for my hand eventually, and I reached up to kiss him lightly. I'm not sure why I had the compulsion to cry. This was the day I was meant to be happy. In fact, I was supposed to be proud or something, right?

My son was growing up. He wasn't a baby anymore. Sooner or later, I would have to explain to everyone that no – I'm not an overprotective mama bear. Fate's just trying to use my son for something, but it chose the wrong woman to mess with.

No seriously, fate? If you're listening, back the fuck off the toddler in the little yellow t-shirt or I will drop kick you in the nut sack. Got it? Great!

Yes, I don't sleep much. Any other questions?

/

School, apparently, is a very exciting place to be for a little boy. I, myself, hardly remember it to be _that _exciting. It seems like ages ago that I had even been at Hogwarts, let alone kindergarten. I could barely remember it now...

It was at the very edges of my mind.

Yes, I had a feeling that me as a toddler wasn't the happy picture Scorpius clearly is. I probably had none of the excitement my little baby exudes, so I'm sure he gets that from his arrogant father. I must have been an introverted child. Have you ever even heard of an introverted four year old? I would have to ask my mother. My father wouldn't remember such things at his stage of old age...

We had decided to take Scorpius to the park after school since Draco had taken the day off of work anyways. As for myself, well, I worked as an editor now only. I preferred it, personally, because I enjoyed being at home with my son.

Pause for reaction. Hermione Granger giving up her job for child rearing? I know.

A lot of the wizarding world approved of this decision, though. I remember the high profile articles that had ran all week in the papers when I had stepped down from my position at Malfoy Industries. The older generation approved that I was going to be home to raise my son with the "proper values a mother should pass down to her young," as an old pureblood witch had put it – and yet, I was appeasing the younger generation by retaining some sort of prestigious employment.

Have I mentioned that I had started writing textbooks that had been published all around the world? No, I suppose I haven't. I did say I was becoming a scatterbrain! This had been my calling all along and I just hadn't been aware of it. My friends said I was living up to the title of "smartest witch of our age" and getting paid for it, too.

But hey, I'm not complaining. I do get paid a large some for being a know-it-all, after all. I knew all that reading would pay off one day.

As I sat on a blanket spread out on vibrant green grass with my dreadfully long manuscript, I watched my husband and son chase each other. They were laughing, rosy cheeked and out of breath when they finally reached me. Draco pulled Scorpius up and sat him over his shoulders and they both grinned down at me. The sun nearly _blinded _me, when I looked up at Draco's very light blonde hair, which Scorpius clutched tightly.

"Papa's going to take me to the swings, mum!"

I let them go, much to Scorpius' delight, as Draco Malfoy ever so cheerfully took his son to play in a muggle park. The image was a conflicting kind. On the one hand, my mind still remembered the cold, snobby little brat from Hogwarts. The other saw the superiorly loving man I had come to know over the past many years. Even though our son was already four, seeing him interact with Scorpius like that just boggled my mind.

Draco was nothing like his father and it was sexy as hell. Can you imagine? Falling head over heels for the guy you're already married to.

Even though I'd never ever admit such a thing to the smug bastard, you had to admit he was absolutely gorgeous. He looked devilishly handsome when he was so indulgent of his son. I just watched. And what a sight it was to behold, indeed! They were beautiful and I don't think I'd ever get enough of their smiling, happy faces.

They were my love, my life. My heart clenched at the prospect of them being involved in something fate had planned for us. While I had not _exactly _figured out what role my darling angel was to play in the prophecy that haunted both Draco and I – I knew he was the missing party. I had sworn to myself on the day he was born, the first minute of his breathing and little beating heart in my arms, that I would not let any harm befall him.

After all, the visions had only depicted _my _death, and I was alright with that development so long as Scorpius was unharmed.

Riddle had taken to strongly assuring me that Scorpius didn't seem to be in any danger, at least not in the foreseeable future. And as the foreseeable future in the perspective of a dead person is... well, quite long indeed, it should have quelled all notions of fear in me.

But it didn't.

Riddle and I had developed a rocky relationship since his little perverted sex dream scheme in order to have me pledge my loyalties to him. It had lasted pretty much all through my pregnancy. However, it was safe to say that me pushing him off the astronomy tower repeatedly for a year had chastised him sufficiently. And if it hadn't, well, it felt quite bloody good doing it anyways.

Don't mess with a pregnant woman. They're violent!

But he had practically forced me to have a threesome in my head! It's very justified, I tell you! Besides, who wouldn't want to throw Lord Voldemort out of a tower? People would probably line up for the opportunity. In fact, that sounds like quite the business opportunity...

But eventually, I'd gotten over it. Mostly it was because Scorpius had been born and he had practically occupied my life to the maximum capacity. There was no room to be angry and violent towards a dead person, especially when it takes that much effort.

Though, when I had finally gotten around to asking him why he had chosen such a perverted method of attempting to get me back to the dream world – his answer hadn't been really...sufficient.

/

"_I'm very limited here, you know. The dead don't have super powers, you realize that I hope," he said arrogantly. He wasn't apologetic, not in the least. Though, to be fair, I had pushed him off the astronomy tower 389 times already by this point. _

"_Yes, I know! But you could have sent me a nightmare, or something, instead!" _

_He raised an eyebrow. "That was not a nightmare to you?" Grinning at my blush and resulting glare, he continued to answer. "Besides, you wouldn't be so very eager to spend time with me if I had given you horrible nightmares." _

_He had a point, but barely. _

"_True. But I've seen all the horrible things you're capable of already," I said rather carelessly. His face darkened, but I took no notice. "Why would you want me to come back so badly, anyways?" _

_His answer was immediate, almost rehearsed. I imagined he'd had enough time to rehearse it. "_You _might not put any value into this prophecy being carried out the way it was meant to," he said haughtily, raising his chin, "but to _me _it is rather important. I don't take well to failure, especially where Albus Dumbledore is concerned!" _

_I couldn't help but laugh at his sour expression. _

"_Don't be silly, Riddle. I hardly need to come here every day for the prophecy to work out how it should," I remarked, still smiling. He paused, as if the observation had caught him off guard – which, in retrospect, it probably had. But he shook it off as quickly as it had come. _

"_It gets lonely here sometimes, I'll admit," he started. His voice was too smooth, though, too much of an actor's quality to it. I could see how he had fooled many people in his time, he was a marvellous actor. But living around Draco had taught me a few things. I could tell he was hiding something. "Do you know what it's like to only have failures that call themselves evil for company?" He leaned back and rolled his eyes as if to emphasize the point. "Grindewald may be the only one with half a brain around here, and that's not saying much. It's dreadful!" _

_I laughed the moment off with him. I wasn't sure if I wanted to uncover whatever it was he was hiding from me. I had enough problems of my own, thank you very much, without having to solve Riddle's riddles. Of course, nothing got past him. He seemed to be aware that he had given himself away. We were at a silent agreement of sorts. _

_I wouldn't ask and he wouldn't tell. _

_I had a feeling he was grateful for it, but that didn't stop me from pushing him off the ledge of the astronomy tower. _

_What? The arse had it coming. _

_/_

I lay there in the sun, hearing laughter pour over me. Thinking of the past always made me feel dead tired. Well, actually, thinking in general made me tired. Life as a mother and wife _and _having a job is not an easy thing to pull off, let me just tell you.

Oh, and of course, dealing with fate. How could I forget? Eat your vegetables, take your vitamins, keep up with your work – and of course, do what fate tells you to do because otherwise you're screwed over. That's all. You'll manage just fine in life!

Yeah bloody right. No one had told me the magical community would be this complicated or I might have reconsidered my decision to join it. Then what would fate have done, pushed me off a cliff so another Hermione Granger could be born? But at the very least, Riddle and I had made progress.

I had been given a son by the good graces of fate. It was my job – as the vessel of fate – to give the man "whose identity has been challenged" – a.k.a death eater turned golden boy Draco, the good of the world. My son was here for the good of the world. Fantastic, right? The great mystery had been solved! Only one issue remained now, of course.

What the fuck was I supposed to _do _about it?

**Draco: **

After a very laughter filled day off of work, I had to say I was exhausted. How do four year olds have so much energy? I could barely keep up with the kid's train of thought, much less his legs. Oh my god. I'm getting old. What the hell? Malfoy's never get old. Never! Well... not horridly old anyhow. What a horrible thought to think!

I had the suspicious feeling that my hairline was receding but no one, including my charming wife, wanted to point it out to me. There are magical therapies for this, you know. I realize it's a vain thing, but no one wants a bald man for a father.

Unless, of course, _your_ father is bald. Then that's quite alright.

I was about to go to the toilet to stare in the mirror, just to confirm that I didn't need hair replacement treatment – or perhaps more psychiatric therapy to get rid of this sudden vanity issue that I had developed – when I heard giggles and splashing coming from inside.

The door was slightly ajar, so naturally, I shameless peaked in. There I found the prettiest picture ever to have graced this earth. Hermione was giving Scorpius a bath and he was telling her about his adventurous day at school. Leaning against the door frame, I listened and watched the beautiful exchange, smiling without realizing.

"And _then _the teacher said it was time to take a nap, but I didn't! No one did. We had snacks under our blankets and made a fort. You won't tell on me will you mum? Papa said he'll keep the secret but Billy is a scaredy bat bogey –"

"Tisk, Scorpius. Be nice," scolded Hermione, but I could tell she was amused with his enthusiasm. He grinned at her and continued playing with the animated bubble bath he so enjoyed. Hermione kissed him on the forehead and continued washing his back.

He was such a ball of life, so full of energy. I don't know what I had done to deserve such a wonderful gift, but whatever it was, I was ready to do it again over and over. He made me happy. Hermione made me happy.

He was my salvation. I almost felt as if with his birth, I had done something good for the world. That every sin I had committed was perhaps forgiven, or excused. I had a little chocolate haired boy who would cling to my legs. And this time, I would protect him with everything I had. Because I loved him. He was my family.

I had a family.

For the first time in my life, I had a _real_ family and no goddamn thing was going to take it away from me or I was going to go all loco on them, pull out my muggle machine guns and shout, "_say hello to my little friends!" _

**A/n: **Did you place the Scarface reference?

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath: **I'm glad you had a great weekend. : ) Canada day for me was mediocre, but I wasn't expecting much really. Thank you for asking. And yes, I'm glad you picked up on the Draco thing! I hope this chapter helps bring light to his feelings as well. As for the pregnancy - twist indeed!


	32. The Box

A/N: So it's obvious that no one's actually going to read this today. But I decided to post it up anyways. I'm so excited about going to see the Harry Potter finale tonight! Have any of you already seen it? How did you like it? Let me know once you all have seen it. I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next five hours.

Thank you as always to my wonderful reviewers: semantics, Jade2099, weirdgiraffe (x2), xenaz3, and Alexybath.

And yes - things are about to get awfully dramatic.

**Chapter 32: The Box**

My life had come to a stop all because of a seemingly deceptive little box.

It was quite a normal looking thing, so normal looking that I hadn't even really paid it much attention at first, even though it had Draco's name scrawled on it in an unfamiliar script. An owl had flown it in and I had just left it there, too busy to go through the pile of mail we had. After all, he was an international sensation and married to a war hero.

So, it had sat on Draco and I's mutually shared desk in our office space for days and days since its arrival. We had all but forgotten about it. Draco had been caught up at work until the late hours of the evening that week and I had been taking time off from researching and writing. The office space had gone unused for quite a while.

Later, I thought of just how strange it was that it had sat there so innocently for _days. _

It was a Saturday when I had roped Scorpius into helping me clean the house. Being the little four year old boy he was, he played and distracted me more than he actually contributed to cleaning up. By the time we reached the little office to do the cleaning, Scorpius was bored out of his mind.

Usually, we wouldn't allow Scorpius to come into this room, simply because little kids have accidents, and that was simply unacceptable. Having to reorganize things was time consuming, especially when you had a billion galleon empire to run. So naturally, the little boy was delighted to follow me in and ignored the warning I gave him not to touch anything.

He sat in the wing backed leather chair Draco so loved and I couldn't help but smile at him. He was going to grow up to be just like his father, I knew. Not that that was a bad thing or anything, but I was going to make sure to tame a few of the wilder parts of Draco's personality in him.

"Mum, what's this?" I heard him ask.

I was too busy dusting the book shelves and straightening things up to turn around and see what he was looking at, but whatever it was, he wasn't supposed to be touching it anyhow. "Don't upset your father's things Scorpius," I warned him, "or he'll be very cross with you. Come on here and help me with those books over there, sweetheart."

But, as little boys are as clumsy as ever, Scorpius unsettled the box on his way towards me. When I heard the clatter and Scorpius's resulting shriek, I turned on the spot ready to scold him for whatever he had destroyed this time but, to my surprise, found billowing purple smoke rising from a box that had toppled to the floor and a very chastised looking Scorpius staring at it guiltily.

I don't know what prompted me to race for my wand that was tucked in the band of my pants. I'm not sure what had me throw the most powerful shield charm towards Scorpius, either, and rush the boy out of the room, but the instinct saved us both. When I turned back to shut the door behind us, my eyes widened.

The smoke had eaten away half of the desk.

/

When Draco came home to a house full of aurors and ministry representatives, he nearly had a freak out, but I had been prepared for that. When he found me making coffee in the kitchen he grabbed me and barely even noticed the cream flying out of my hands and crashing onto the floor.

When an auror burst in to see what had happened, Draco nearly growled.

"_Leave_," he said, pointing to the door. The auror left, clearly knowing what was good for him. He nearly picked me up and sat me down on one of the kitchen counters after throwing everything to the floor with a sweep of his arm. I cringed at the crash and breaking of glass and looked towards the door to see if any other aurors would come in.

They didn't.

"_Explain yourself,_" he nearly hissed.

"Draco, calm down," I started, reaching for him, but all he did was trap both of my hands in his and pressed them into my lap. Damn, he really _was _angry.

"Explain yourself!" he shouted this time.

"I think it would be more conducive for us to go over it together," I heard someone say. Looking over Draco's broad shoulder, I found Harry staring at us worriedly. Draco turned too and nodded a greeting to him. Suddenly, I found myself glad that Harry was head of the auror department. Very, very glad.

"Have a seat, Potter," Draco said, gesturing to a counter stool tiredly. I didn't blame him. It was nearly past twelve and he hadn't had dinner yet. When I made to get off and join Harry, he looked at me harshly. "Not you." And he forced me to stay on the counter as if I were a little kid being chastised. But I was too afraid to say anything in my defence. Looking around as if suddenly realizing something was missing, he asked, "Where is Scorpius?"

"He's at my house," Harry supplied for me. "Ginny is looking after him with the other children. I believe Molly has joined them too." I saw him visibly relax and the grip on my wrists loosened fractionally.

"I sent him there directly after," I spoke in my defence, finally. Even if it _was _in a small voice. You really rather don't want to see Draco superbly angry. And believe me you when I say he was really very angry. "I'm not irresponsible..."

"Not _irresponsible?_ What are you then, hm?" I could see the rage in his eyes. "If it weren't for Potter, I wouldn't have even _known_ anything had happened and you say you're RESPONSIBLE? WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?" I cringed and drew away from him. Draco never yelled like this... and he certainly never swore at me. My reaction must have forced him to calm down because he drew me close. "Why didn't you call me, Hermione?"

"I... you had that meeting with the French ambassador today and I..." But Draco just shook his head in disgust. "I didn't want to disturb, I had everything under control."

It was clear he was going to yell again and have a huge raging fit, which is why I think Harry intervened. "She's right, though. She had it under control." Draco turned to regard Harry, not letting go of me in the slightest. My wrists were starting to hurt but I didn't dare say anything lest I piss him off further. "When we came she already had the room contained. If she hadn't acted so quickly, neither of them would be alive."

Well. At least Harry had tried.

Draco stared at me and I could see the fear in his eyes. "What happened?"

"Someone sent you a package with a very unique curse..." Harry began.

"How did it get past the wards?" he interrupted.

"We're not exactly sure –"

"By Gods! I've explained this to four different aurors! Why doesn't anyone _listen _to me?" I shouted. Both Draco and Harry both stared at me and I blushed. "Well... it was a containment charm." They continued to stare rather blankly, which only made me roll my eyes. "Honestly, don't you two _read?_"

Harry laughed, but Draco wasn't in the laughing kind of mood.

"Explain," he simply said.

If he had been anyone else, I'd have told him to fuck off for ordering me around, but I supposed the extenuating circumstances excused his attitude.

"Well, they're very recent in development. Agatha Yorkenshire invented the first containment charm in 1963, though they weren't thoroughly researched again until 2001. _Basically,_ a containment charm, and all of its variations, stabilizes and literally 'contains' any object in its original state within a space for any given amount of time if they're applied properly." I paused for breath and was pleased to find they were still listening.

"Generally, a space has to be solid – like a box, for example – for a containment charm to be strong. So if I were to have put a cube of cheese in a box with a containment charm and came back a year later, the cube of cheese would be in exactly the same condition it had been when I put it in."

Draco paused to consider this. "So why was it able to come through the wards?"

"Because, once inside the space, the object is contained. It does not exist to the magical world and you wouldn't be able to find it unless the charm is generally broken. It's the same concept behind taking a secret keeper." Draco nodded, intrigued. "Many people don't use it because it's quite a tricky piece of magic and if gone wrong can be disastrous. Once, a lady was sucked into the space she had meant to contain and wasn't found for months."

"You never did tell us how you managed to seal the room," Harry finally asked when he had finished processing all of the information I had given him.

"Oh, it's simple," I said, grinning. "I used a containment charm."

And for the first time all night, Draco threw his head back and laughed.

/

It had taken them an entire week to figure out a method in which to remove the curse from our office and we had been forced to stay with Harry and Ginny for the entirety of it. Mostly because Ginny wouldn't have it any other way and Draco found it easier to badger Harry on progress this way.

Scorpius was enjoying the hell out of himself, at least, having found kids of his own age to play with.

At the end of the week, a very exhausted looking Harry came home followed by Draco, while Ginny and I were cooking dinner. The kids were upstairs, loudly playing with something or another. When the men sat at the kitchen table, not talking, not even looking at each other, Ginny and I exchanged a look.

"Come here, please, Hermione," Draco finally said. Wiping my hands on a dishtowel, I went over to him, wondering what was going on. When I reached him, he had me sit down next to him and he put an arm around me.

"I have good news and bad news," Harry said, distracting me. Ginny came over and placed her hands on Harry's shoulders. He tilted his head up and kissed her cheek before continuing. "The good news is we've finally gotten rid of the curse in your house and it's safe to go in again."

"And the bad news?" I asked, apprehensively. What's the worse that could have happened? The top floor of our house could have been destroyed along with all of our possessions. But that was something I was okay with. We had all gotten away safely, at the very least. Draco's arm tightened protectively around me.

Instead of answering, Harry pulled a package out of the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to me. I looked at him, but he just nodded at me to open it. So I did. At first I was confused. They were just pictures. What was the big deal? But then I actually looked at them closely and my jaw fell open.

They were all of me. Draco appeared in a few of them, but it was mostly just me. There were over a hundred of them at the very least.

"What is this?" I asked, looking at them. Draco just turned away and Harry just awkwardly gestured at me to look. The first few were just of me on the street. Me with Draco, me picking Scorpius up from school and the like. Mundane things, like grocery shopping.

But then, there were pictures of us sleeping. Pictures of me changing. Pictures of me in the shower... pictures of Draco and I in bed doing...

I threw them down and scrabbled out of my chair away from them. "Where did these come from?" I asked carefully. Harry quickly vanished them. Draco came towards me attempting to calm my panic down. "Tell me where they came from," I said to him, looking up to see his disturbed silver eyes. But he didn't say anything.

"They were in the package that you received," Harry finally managed to spit out.

And just like that, my life had come to a stop all because of a seemingly deceptive little box.

/

Unfortunately for me, though not entirely surprising because I have such rotten luck, things progressively got worse. It was enough to say that I was freaked out and entirely consumed with the idea that _someone _was watching me at all hours of the day, taking _pictures... _But whoever this person or creature was constantly made it known that whatever defence that I put up would not be enough to keep them out.

No matter that we had hired 24/7 auror protection, which Harry made sure had all the best members his department could provide for my security. The son of a bitch managed to outsmart them all. We thought it best for Scorpius' sake that he stay with Harry and Ginny while we stayed at home. Though Draco didn't like this idea one bit.

I would _not _have my son get mixed up in any of this nonsense.

The first night the auror protection had been installed, I slept a little better. I hadn't been going to see Riddle all that much these days, afraid that if I did I wouldn't be able to wake up if something dangerous were to occur. He thought this was for the best as well.

But when I woke up that morning, I found a very worried Draco talking to the head of the guard team when I came downstairs for breakfast. Apparently, three aurors on their guard team had mysteriously been stunned, put under a heavy memory charm and left with pictures of my sleeping face. I had almost screamed in frustration.

So, naturally, Draco had upped the security measures. We installed a gate with every ward I could think of, but the next day we found a box full of cursed photographs laying innocently on the inside of the gate. How anyone had managed to get anything through those wards was mind boggling. It had to be a mastermind. It was _inconceivable. _

Draco didn't stand for it. He hired an independently contracted security team to compliment the auror's protection services. The very next day, two guards and an auror were found dead on the _outside _of the gate.

No one was safe.

Draco started to lose more sleep than I did. Bags started to become a permanent feature under his eyes and I was surprised he even managed to get out of bed in the morning. I had to start forcing him to sleep, cradling his head in my arms and murmuring soothing words because he refused to take a sleeping potion. Not that I wanted him to take a sleeping potion... I wouldn't feel safe.

At first we assumed it was the house we were living in. Perhaps it had some sort of secret entryway we weren't aware of? Immediately, Draco made plans to move us to a new location and had the auror department scan our house. Not only did the search results turn out empty, but we woke up with our new apartment literally covered wall to wall with pictures.

Pictures and one message scrawled in dripping red paint over our snow white bedroom wall.

_I'm Watching You. _

**A/N: So what did you think? **

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath: **Oh, no worries at all. It wasn't too bad. : ) I'm glad you liked my rendition of the Malfoy heir.


	33. The Dead Don't Sleep

A/N: Hello everyone! Especially to my new readers. There seem to be quite a few of you this week. So welcome, and enjoy. Had a good week? Mine was... interesting enough. Lots of work to do.

Did you all see DH2? I loved it! Let me know.

Thank you as always to my reviewers: Jade2099, HP0247, semantics, weirdgiraffe, Divin L'eau, pardonnez, xenaz3 and Alexybath.

**Chapter 33: The Dead Don't Sleep **

**Hermione: **

Things just progressively got worse.

It came to a point where Draco could not sit still without looking over his shoulder. He was frazzled and I was calm. Well, calm on the exterior for Draco's sake. On the inside, I was freaked the hell out. There wasn't a moment that passed where I wasn't completely consumed with the idea that my family was in danger.

In the first few months that this whole "stalking" ordeal had commenced, Draco and I couldn't figure out what the sick son of a bitch wanted. Neither could the auror department or Harry for that matter. At first, it had seemed that it was just a sick, perverted Peeping Tom that wanted to give us a rise. We were, after all, high profile people. Maybe he just enjoyed that kind of thing.

For after all, no matter how much damage he inflicted to the people around us, to our guards and to our defences, he hadn't ever harmed us. And the harm that he _had _inflicted had only been to show us that he could get past anything we put up against him.

He was invincible and we were flailing.

Harry thought whoever it was behind these acts enjoyed the feeling of power he had over us, and that it was important we not aggravate him or push him too far. Not that this advice mattered anyways. Nothing we did ever hindered him from his goals. Whether that was taking inappropriate pictures of me, or leaving us messages on our walls.

Then, things began to slowly change.

It started with the disappearance of the head guard who was in charge of the patrolling schedules. The man had been working at the ministry for 35 years. He was reliable, he was old, and he was more than trustworthy. You honestly couldn't meet a sweeter man.

One day, he just stopped coming to work. Things without him were difficult. The aurors were a bunch of freaking sheep. They couldn't organize themselves. They had issues coming up with new patrolling schedules. All in all, without the old man, we were bumbling about, attempting to scramble the pieces. I had stopped caring. So what? It'd just be less of a challenge for the pervert to get into our house. Great big fucking deal.

That was, of course, until we were mailed a box dripping blood. When Draco opened the box, we had found the head of the poor old guard severed brutally and presented on a silk cloth.

I had cried for hours.

The next day the message written on our wall was just as shocking.

_You're Next. _

Harry took it upon himself to move us into his own house and make Ginny the secret keeper. He felt it was safer that way. He would not allow someone to rampage into his friends' lives. He wouldn't deign to lose another friend. Not after all he had been through.

It was good for us. There were no more messages to be woken up to, there were no more pictures taken. Draco felt relaxed. I felt a little calm creep into my mind. We had had to sacrifice our lives to get a little peace. We couldn't leave No. 12 Grimmauld place. Not for the spell to be effective. So as it was, Draco couldn't go to work and I couldn't get out of this house. At least I could spend time with our son.

But, all of this didn't mean we didn't get disgusting mail delivered to us.

Disembowelled pigs, human fingers, vials of shimmering blood, curses of all kinds – you name it. But, at the very least, we were safe for the time being.

Harry and Draco worked through everyone who could possibly hold such a grudge against us. It was an all consuming task. They talked of nothing else, they thought of nothing else. It was as if a cloud had settled over our lives. Though of course, when you're trapped in a house with a madman trying to kill you and your family, there isn't much else to think about.

But that cloud consumed me and I was grim. It was a hopeless existence. I had nothing else to turn to, no one else to confide in. Everyone, especially Draco, would tell me it'd all be alright. I just couldn't believe that. Someone with that much power would eventually find a way to destroy us.

I could feel it in my bones.

But still, I had to pretend. If not for myself then for Draco and Scorpius. They were counting on me to show them that everything _was _going to be alright. And I'm sure I was doing a shitty act, but it was going to have to be enough.

But it was goddamn _infuriating_ to be told that my intuition was wrong over and over again. I could _feel _that this person was dangerous and that there was something we were missing. I knew they were looking at the issue from all the wrong angles. There was a hole in their logic and they weren't even willing to look at it! No. So long as they were told everything was going to be alright, it was fine and dandy.

No one was willing to accept the fact that something was dreadfully wrong here and it was something that really couldn't be fixed.

Not even Riddle managed to pass the test.

Since I knew I was protected at Grimmauld place, protected enough to _deeply sleep, _I felt safe enough to visit the dream world again. Fat lot of good that did to me.

/

Riddle had been completely surprised to see me. I could tell he was attempting to hide the fact, but I had caught his eyes widening and the expression on his face before he had managed to school his features to impassive once more.

"What are you doing here?" he asked carefully.

"I'm here to see you, what else would I be doing here?" I responded.

I was tired of people treating me like I was going to explode any second. Granted, it was true that I was going to explode at any second, but they didn't have to acknowledge it every second of the day! Jesus! Treat me like a normal person, goddamnit! I had hoped Riddle would be the one to break the pattern, but so far I was extremely disappointed.

"Is it particularly...safe?"

He seemed uncertain of his words, or maybe he had picked up on my discontented reaction to his earlier question. Well. At least the man was perceptive. Can't say that about much of the male species. Then again, this man was a sociopath, after all.

"We finally decided to get a secret keeper," I supplied. "You'll understand if I don't tell you exactly where we're staying."

At this, he wrinkled his nose. "Who do you think I'll tell? I'm dead, for Merlin's sake!" I laughed, but he still seemed displeased I hadn't trusted him. Well, he'd have to get over it. It was a necessary security precaution, even if he was dead.

When he continued to stare at me expectantly, I sighed and sat down in front of the door to the astronomy tower. "How've you been, anyways?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you know, chilling like dead people do."

My first reaction was astounded shock, though perhaps not to a deathly degree. Just when I thought absolutely _nothing _could faze me, Riddle came along ad said some... very bad slang. My next reaction was to laugh like a hyena. I laughed until there was a stitch in my side and I could barely breathe, and still showed no sign of stopping. It felt good after all of these days to finally laugh.

The conditions at home didn't allow for much laughter these days.

"What is _wrong _with you, Grange- Malfoy, I mean?" he finally snapped. "Is it _funny _to you that I'm perpetually cold? I tell you it's not a pleasant experience."

That really through me for a bender. "I thought you were, um..."

"Yes?" he said, after a moment, tapping his foot expectantly.

"Oh. Well, I thought you were using bad slang to make me laugh... you know, because I hadn't laughed in months and such," I said very fast because I knew he wouldn't rest until I'd told him the inner workings of my crazy mind. Riddle's face actually softened and I blushed. I, a mother and a wife, actually found it in myself to blush after all I've seen. "Anyways, I'm rather worried."

That's right. In times of awkward conversation, quickly change the subject and hope that the other person doesn't know what you're doing. And even if they do, who gives a damn?

I gave him a moment to compose himself, turning to watch the Hogwarts grounds instead. It was a gloomy day, all shadows and shades of grey. The skies were overcast, so much so that they looked physically burdened. It was as if they were holding up all of my pent up worries and sorrows. I heard Riddle sigh behind me.

"Yes, it does look like it's going to rain..." he said, as if reading my thoughts. He was close. So close I could almost feel him breathe against my ear. "Perhaps we ought to take this conversation back into the castle?"

I shook my head, no. "I like it out here."

I didn't have to turn around to know he was rolling his eyes and pretending to strangle me. In fact, if I turned around now, I knew his arms would be mimicking wringing my neck just inches away from me. In the past, when I'd caught him taking part in such a childish act – a man nearly 90 years old being so childish! – it would really make me laugh.

But today, I didn't turn around. I suddenly wasn't in the mood to laugh.

"You know, it's going to be alright," Riddle finally said when I failed to produce a reaction. A violent flash of lightning forked through the sky followed by rumbling thunder. "It doesn't seem to be lasting, this dilemma of yours."

And then it began to rain in earnest.

"Do _not _tell me it's going to be alright!" I hissed. "You don't know the first thing!" He seemed taken aback at my outburst. "You aren't _there,_ Riddle. You don't have a spouse and a CHILD to take care of, so don't you tell me it's going to be alright when they can die any day now!" I shouted right at his face.

He composed himself and addressed me like I was a crazy person. Which, in his opinion, I probably was. And now I don't even blame him. I was almost hysterical, snapped to the point of irreparable brokenness.

The stress and strain of forcing myself to remain calm, or at least hold up a strong exterior had finally gotten to me. For _months _I had held myself together for my family, for my friends so that they could worry and frantically exclaim – it had all finally caught up with me. And poor Tom Riddle received the worst of it.

"Hermione," he began slowly. "I'm merely speaking of what information I was able to gather. It shows that you don't have to go through any of this for much longer –"

I cut him off. How dare he try to be a voice of reason when I'm clearly having a bitch fit?

"_Much longer?_ Much longer! Rather than throwing useless bits of information at me, you could do something USEFUL for once! It takes a second to kill, Riddle! A second! I don't care how long this lasts. I don't fucking care what you have to say!"

Riddle honestly looked affronted. He stood there with that furious, evil expression on his face. It was his trademark look – The I'm Fucking Tom Riddle and "I'm murderous so I'm going to kill you now", kind of look.

Nothing new there.

What _was _new was his ability to calm himself and remain under cool control. And not just as a front so he could stab me in the back at a later time – actual calm consideration. If I had been in my right mind, I probably would have praised him. As it was, I just haughtily stared back at him, challenging him to make a move. We stood there with the rain pouring over us.

"Hermione –"

"No!" I shouted back at him, rather childishly.

Before I knew it I was pinned against a wet stone wall, trapped against Tom Riddle Jr. of all people. The life nearly went out of me and I finally began to sob against his shoulder for all I was worth. I couldn't stem the flow, not even if I wanted to. Not that I tried, or anything. It was a relief to cry. To finally let it all out.

"Let me go!" I shouted, but my voice was muffled from the din of the growing storm. "Let me go!"

But he didn't. He didn't let go, not even when I began to pound my fists against his chest. Instead, he trapped my wrists between us. The action was so familiar, so reminiscent of Draco that I only sobbed harder.

It was too much for me to handle.

I stopped fighting and let Riddle lead me inside. He led me down the staircase, the long winding famous Hogwarts staircases that are much more trouble than they're worth. We walked down corridor after corridor, through passageway after passageway. Soon, it all became a blur and I was no longer aware of it all, simply letting my body carry me where it would.

Eventually, I found myself sitting in front of a warm blazing fire with a blanket wrapped securely around me. I couldn't remember how I had gotten there or how long I had been sitting there in my stupor.

Looking around, I found Riddle had fallen asleep in his bed, his blankets loosely draped over his legs. He almost looked peaceful, almost angelic. I was tempted to push his hair back off of his forehead like I would for Scorpius when he suffered nightmares, but I refrained.

"You're leaving now?" he finally muttered, peaking at me from under one lid. I mutely nodded. He sighed. "Ah well, I had almost gotten the hang of dozing..."

"Sorry," I offered. "I forgot the dead don't sleep."

/

I woke up with the first rays of dawn and found myself tangled in a mess of blankets and limbs. Draco had somehow managed to trap me within the blankets along with his arms and legs throughout the course of the night. His head was tucked gently under mine and I could hear him breathing gently.

Trying desperately hard not to wake up, but failing miserably, I attempted to escape. Naturally, because he's such a light sleeper, Draco was startled awake. He stared around the room, clearly disoriented.

He mumbled something like "chocolate fucking zombies", but I wasn't too sure.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Mm... five more minutes..." he muttered, moving into a more comfortable position against my neck. I was glad. Draco barely ever slept these days. So when five minutes turned to twenty and twenty into two hours, I allowed it, staying still beneath him so he could catch up on some much needed rest.

I had a lot to think about, anyways.

When Draco finally got out of bed to shower, I couldn't find the energy to do the same. So I continued to lay there, feeling absolutely dead inside. I was still tired and worn from all the emotional and psychological bombardment. It's really a lot to handle.

Finally, Scorpius bounced in like a little ray of sunshine to come get me. "Papa's looking for you," he informed me secretively under the blankets. "But if you want to sleep, I won't tell. I'll tell him you're taking a long, hot bubble bath."

He was so sweet and earnest that it made me melt. I picked him up and sat him on my lap, kissing his cheek and forehead. "That's okay, sweetheart. How about I make you some brunch, hm? We can have chocolate pancakes with lots and lots of syrup, okay?" He grinned and nodded. Kissing him again I sent him off.

"Tell papa I'm coming," I called after him.

His little head bobbed through the door and somehow I found the energy to get dressed, brush my teeth and tie my hair up into a bun so that I looked somewhat presentable. I found Ginny in the kitchen talking quietly with Draco. They both immediately stopped when I entered the room, but when they realized it was just me, they continued.

I could hear snippets of their conversation from where I was teaching Scorpius how to make pancake batter.

"Found another box, yes –"

"...Sending it down to the Department of Mysteries..."

"...Couldn't have waited, rounding up suspects –"

"Draco, sweetheart, would you mind terribly getting me some more milk from the pantry?" I loudly interrupted. I was tired of this. Wasn't it bad enough that we were stuck here with a mad psychopath trying to get in? Draco looked startled but both he and Ginny knew what my intentions were.

When he came back with the requested milk he held me gently from behind, massaging circles into my sides. "Is everything okay?" he asked gently.

"Yes," I replied, stiffly. "Perhaps you can get Scorpius ready for lunch? He has batter all over his hands." Draco nodded, recognizing the dismissal. Ginny stared worriedly at me, but I just ignored her. Couldn't they understand that I was just tired and needed to be left alone? I would be their strong picture of perfection in a little while. I just needed a little bit of time to recharge, that's all.

We had an awkward, silent lunch, made more awkward by the fact that the children were the only ones excitedly talking. For the most part, I stared out the window watching the rain pour down gently. It was almost soothing, the way it fell, the sound of it...

After the meal, I stood by the window not paying attention to anything but my thoughts, which were blank mostly. Somehow, miraculously, no one bothered me for a whole ten minutes. Draco came by eventually, of course, as was usual.

"Is something –"

"No, I'm just going out in the back garden for a little bit, alright?" He looked at me worriedly. "It's just stifling in here," I offered as an excuse. "I think I'll have a bad migraine later if I don't get some fresh air now."

He bought it. "Here, take a coat or something with you then..." he made to go get me one, but I was out the door before he had even moved.

Ah, the blessed rain. It poured against my overheated skin and with it went a little bit of my sanity. Only sane people think about their issues, after all, and I don't want to be sane anymore. I just want to be _normal_. So, in those few moments, I let the rain soak me to the bone and deluded myself into thinking that this is what I wanted. That this was something good. I almost thought I was feeling better.

Until I realized I was cold – freezing actually – and absolutely alone.

In just a second all feelings of liberation, of insanity, of feeling somewhat better all just disappeared into thin air. And in its place reality swept in. I was in a horrible situation and I really did _not _want to be alone. Who wants to be normal if you're going to be without someone like Draco and your own son Scorpius?

I felt alone, completely and totally void of all determination. Falling to my knees, I began to weep.

But then suddenly, I was warmer. I had a pair of arms wrapped around me and I was being carried away. I suppose Draco had been watching me from the window to make sure I didn't do something self destructive (or if someone did something destructive for me). And I was grateful for him, for his sweetness.

But I wasn't ready to leave the rain, yet.

"Stop, Draco. Stay here." He hesitated, but put me down nonetheless. He forced my arms through a coat and followed me when I lay down in the grass. We lay there holding hands.

And then suddenly a memory flashed into my head.

_Laying in the rain, holding hands with Draco and drifting... _

After all these years, after all these goddamn years, another vision had finally come true. And then I knew. I knew that it was my time to go. It was finally my time to die. I had somehow completed my purpose in life and it was time to go now.

Fate was a really cruel bitch. Couldn't it just hit me with a car or something? A _quick _death as opposed to some psychopath raging after me? I almost wanted to laugh. In fact, I was almost relieved. Finally the question had been answered. I would do what I had to do.

And if that meant fighting against a freak and dying – well so be it. And if that meant I had to pretend to stay strong for everyone, then I would do that too. I felt courage flow through my veins.

_That's right, Hermione, _I coached myself, _there's the Gryffindor courage everyone's been waiting for! Now that you know what has to happen, just play along like fate wants you to. _

For the first time in a long time, I truly smiled. Sending Draco in ahead of me, I checked on the wards protecting the garden. It was a relief to be free of worry. They were all safe. It was just me who would be sacrificed.

And that was a just cause.

I would never be sure what exactly fate had planned for me, but there is always a reason for everything, I realized. I would play my part bravely, for what else can you do in a situation like this? I'd fight to the very bitter end for my two loves. Resolved, I finally stood up from the wet ground and walked in smiling sadly at an overly worried Draco and a little chocolate haired boy who was dejected that he hadn't been allowed to play in the rain with mummy.

**A/N: See you next week! **

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Jade2099: **I love twists, don't you?

**Alexybath: **I hope your nails have survived, or at least sufficiently regrown for this chapter. :D You'll just have to guess at who it is, though. I shan't ruin it for you.


	34. Laugh While you can Still Breathe

A/N: Hello! So I tried something a little different in this chapter and I hope you'll be satisfied. It took me a while to get used to writing in that style again. AND SO THE PLOT THICKENS!

Do you guys like the once a week updates? It's actually a lot of effort to do it all in my schedule – so if you actually _do _like it, say so because otherwise...

Warning: Sexual Content.

Thank you to: Jade2099, pardonnez, NinjaClarinetGirlBianca, weirdgiraffe, semantics, xenaz3, and Alexybath for reviewing

**Chapter 34: Laugh While you can Still Breath**

**6 Months Later: **

He stood there in the shadows watching the happy couple mingle with their stolen friends.

_They did not deserve happiness! _

He slowly felt the rage bubble up inside him at the sight, for he knew in his hearts of hearts that the fiends did not deserve to be in the presence of someone like Harry and Ginny Potter. Especially not anywhere near their offspring!

People like that could pollute innocent minds, after all.

But he knew he could not go out and attack them, not in broad daylight. And certainly not in such a direct manner, either. No, he knew if he did something like that, they would run and hide again. He knew someone as noble as Potter would hide them again, no matter that Potter's own family would be endangered in the process.

But he was not here to hurt Harry or Ginny, or their children either. No. All he wanted was that bitch Hermione and the bastard Malfoy. She had chosen her side when she had married herself off to the fucking Death Eater scum. Hermione Granger had dug her own grave. Now she was just going to have to lie in it.

Yes, he was going to make her lie in it.

He had messed up severely, though. He should not have provoked them so openly, so _obviously. _He should have taken them out discreetly when he had had the chance, when they weren't aware of the danger they were in. But he had underestimated the lengths they had been willing to go to and instead had taken a part in sweet revenge.

Had it been Hermione's idea to hide like a coward? Or had the son of a bitch ignored his greed for once and let his business go awry for months to hide in Potter's good faith? Didn't Harry know slime like that could never change? Harry Potter was deluded into thinking Malfoy had changed for the better.

People like Malfoy could never change, he knew. Of course not. People like that would only take advantage and stab anyone in the back once they had the chance. Such self important people deserved everything they got. Rather than attempt to change their ways, they ought to be removed from the face of the earth and destroyed completely.

That is why he knew he had to destroy the Malfoy, and with him would end the Malfoy line. No more annoying blond brats. They would not see it coming, of course. He had seen to it that someone had been caught in his place.

The Auror department had been _so _happy. It had been a victorious day for all, filled with celebration. The Ministry was the hero and their idols were safe. They had expressed their relief to the Prophet, as well.

And now, six months later, they were letting their guard down. He grinned to himself wickedly.

Walking out of the shadows at a brisk pace, he purposefully collided with the man who he so detested. But he would have to wait to kill him, that was for certain. For now, it would have to wait. Otherwise, his whole plan would be in jeopardy. So instead, he picked himself up off the ground and offered the blond a disgusted hand, swearing profusely.

"I'm sorry, how clumsy of me," he finally forced himself to say genially. "Say – you're Draco Malfoy! I've seen you in the papers." He schooled his features to resemble something like excitement instead of disgust.

Malfoy smiled at the reverence he probably assumed was there in the recognition, the disgusting git. "No harm, no foul," was the response. It was all the man could do to walk away instead of scratching the bastard's eyes out. But somehow, he managed to turn around before the evil expression made it onto his face.

If Draco Malfoy had looked back at that moment, he would have noticed something quite strange about the man that had knocked him over in an apparent accident. He would notice the man suddenly grow a few inches in height and his hair transform into the strangest colour, haggard and cut savagely.

He would have seen the clothes on the apparently nice man stretch in length but sag off the man's overly skinny frame. And Draco Malfoy would have been very concerned indeed, for that body could only belong to one person.

But Draco Malfoy did not turn around.

In fact, Draco Malfoy had forgotten all about the man. Instead, his attention was now focused on his wife and child. But had he turned around that moment, he would have had the capacity to change the future.

As it was, the future was set in stone.

/

Much, much later, the man sat in front of a bubbling cauldron. Its murky contents were putrid, if the smell was anything to go by. But it was all for a just cause.

The best cause.

When the man finally left the cauldron to simmer on its own, shutting the lights behind him, all that could be seen from the glowing of the fire under the smelly cauldron was a vial. It was a short, thin glass vial that had been stoppered tightly.

Within it lay three innocent looking white-blond hairs.

Yes, Draco Malfoy really had it coming to him.

**Hermione: **

Sometimes deception is the best way to approach a situation.

Of course, that was a Slytherin approach and at first it had astounded me that I hadn't thought of it myself. But I wasn't a Slytherin at all, was I? At least, that is what a smug Draco told me when I commended him on his talent.

"Gryffindors are too noble to come in first!"

Naturally, I had smacked him upside the head.

Unfortunately for me, I had married a sneaky genius. Some would say that that was a great thing, and you know - that was exactly what I _had _been looking for in life and marriage, love and whatever else. But in reality, it wasn't quite a great thing to have if they were bent on constantly outshining you. Well, I'm not sure if he _purposely _did so, but fuck it! I'm annoyed.

As outrageous as this accusation sounds, I'm rather sure I can explain.

You see, Draco is a very quick thinker. So, when the auror department came across a trace in one of the packages our psychotic stalker had sent us to a man living in a rundown building in the ghettos of London, he had told them to carefully analyze the situation before approaching the press or even indicating that any arrest had been made.

And when it _was _discovered that the man was under a very strong imperius curse as well as severe memory modifications, Draco had forced the department to let the news out that the stalker had been captured. So now, not only was the auror department able to conduct secret, under the radar searches for our stalker, but the person – whoever it is – would not even be aware of it.

The only downside, of course, was Draco's hidden panic over not being able to keep extreme security. That part I had had to talk him out of. Instead, to compensate, we had to come up with extensive barriers and very experimental magic that had come straight out of the Department of Mysteries. _Hopefully, _it would be enough to last us.

As a precaution, Scorpius continued to live at Grimmauld place.

It wasn't the most pleasant existence, I'll give you that. I would spend every possible waking moment with Draco and Scorpius, but by the end of the day we would have to put Scorpius to bed in a house that was not ours.

Apparating away each night was heartbreaking but it was absolutely necessary.

I knew I was going to die, I knew it was inevitable. No matter what anyone said, no matter how many protective measures Draco took to prevent it – it was going to happen. I was prepared for it, at least I thought I was. There was nothing anyone could do to stop what fate had in store for me. But what I _could _do was keep my son out of the mess. He didn't have to die with me, that much I was going to make sure of.

As always, the strong front was put up. My own shields of deceptive emotion were put in place. And for once, maybe I could believe that I was happy. After all, I had everything I had ever wanted from life. So what if I was leaving a few years earlier than I had intended and with a lot much more adventure than I had ever dreamed of?

Fucking drama! Couldn't leave me alone for once, could you?

But it was alright, because in the end I was fulfilled. It was my time to go, and I would go gracefully, no matter how much drama played with me or screwed with my head. And for now, I was just happy to exist. I would live, love, and laugh as much as possible.

I would laugh while I could still breathe.

/

Fortunately for Draco and I, putting up the picture that a psychopath _wasn't _stalking you required for us to go to work. And thank God for that! We aren't the kind of people who could stay home all day doing nothing. At least I'm not. I think Draco was just tired of living with the Potters and needed something, _anything _to get his mind off the horror of Harry and Ginny's late night passions.

By passions I mean very loud sex.

At first, Draco would not bear for me to stay home alone, or with Scorpius, during the day. So, I was forced to come to work with him on the days that I didn't want to be at the Potter's house with Scorpius.

It would have been overbearing if I didn't love the office so much. It was a quiet place to work and research and here my papers would never get destroyed. No muddy footprints, no screaming and yelling, no little voices demanding attention and definitely no sticky juice spills. And most of all, I could sometimes catch Draco working in action.

It was one thing to say Draco Malfoy commanded attention and completely another to say that he captivated his audience.

I had been passing by his office floor one day absentmindedly, when I heard his voice drift out from an open conference room door. Curiosity had gotten the best of me, and so naturally I had gone to investigate what the great Malfoy was up to today.

When I reached the door that was fully wide open, the sight was one that for some reason _aroused _me. I hadn't felt arousal in months. Don't blame me. What, with the whole "you're being stalked, ha ha" business and the stress of the whole situation – there wasn't a lot of time for sexual relations of any kind. Draco had been too worried and scared, and as for myself...well, I'd been preparing myself to die for the greater good.

So don't get in my hair for it! (Yes, I know..._Excuses, excuses...) _

I stood there and feasted my eyes and the gorgeous view. Draco sat at the head of a very long mahogany wood desk. His posture was relaxed and well placed (as usual) and he was dressed to make a lady's mouth water.

He had worn a muggle suit to work today, you see. But it wasn't just _any _type of muggle suit. It was a suit that was older in fashion, the kind that was a three piece – a kind muggles generally didn't wear anymore if they weren't from the older generation. But on Draco, it looked _fabulous. _He sat there, with the coat draped over the back of his seat, lounging with a hand behind his deliciously messy hair.

I'm not sure what it was about him in the suit vest but hell did it get me going.

Perhaps it was the way his muscles bulged in the white shirt? Or the way his broad chest filled it out so perfectly? Perhaps it was his lean torso that was just too perfectly situated in the high winged back leather chair. And I just knew his long legs would be perfectly placed under the table. The man was too good looking for his own safety. No wonder people wanted to jump him in the street.

I wanted to jump him in the street. No, I wanted to jump him right there on the desk. Who cares if there were people around? I'm his wife. I'm allowed to do such crazy things to him, right? RIGHT?

But I didn't dare interrupt the perfection that was before me, because when Draco works he is a sight to behold. He has a way with people, one that had decidedly taken him years to develop. It was nothing like his oily, smarmy charm that he had back in school. It was more like a well refined grace, a presence that you just couldn't ignore... a mind that was too great to not take notice of...

And of course, a body you just wanted to eat. Not in the Hannibal Lecter way either.

He was directing the group over some project or another, I couldn't really pay _that _much attention to what was happening in my state, but the gentle way he had everyone hanging onto his every word, the method in which he commanded his peers to carry out his every whim... it was just amazing to watch. He had the power, so to speak.

As I stared on, watching him do what he did best, I felt tingles run down my spine. This quality about him, an inherent Malfoy trait it seemed, was one that would always have me attracted to him. I loved a man who knew what he wanted and knew how to get it – and Draco Malfoy could make a mountain move out of his path with a few well placed words.

It was all I could do to walk away at that moment, return to my office and pretend to work for three more hours until Draco came and got me.

Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?

But I was consumed with the man. There is a _reason _I married him, after all. It wasn't out of convenience, not out of love (alright, partly out of love), but it was this. The man could make my world shatter and not even know it. He could make me tremble with a gaze, make me fall apart with a word. He could make me furious in a flash and ecstatically happy a second later.

He could make me _feel _and I would cling to him for the rest of my short life because of it.

By the time he had finally made it to my door, it was well past ten and Scorpius was bound to be asleep already. It was a pity that this is what it had come to, but tonight, his lateness would be excused. He knocked quietly, tentatively, once or twice as if he knew I was going to be angry.

Well, usually I would have been angry. Poor Scorpius shouldn't have to suffer for his lateness, should he? Though of course, I could always have left and put him to bed myself. Generally, that is what I _would _have done – but, not tonight. Tonight I was going to be selfish and live my life for me and not for anyone else.

Just one night. Scorpius would understand.

"Come in," I called.

He came in quietly, pulling the door halfway shut behind him. I didn't look directly at him, knowing that if I did, I'd lose it completely here and now. And that just wouldn't do. So instead, I looked at the documents on my desk, pretending to be still working.

"Are you ready to go, sweetheart?" he asked, coming to sit at the edge of my desk. I underlined something, not exactly paying attention to what I was doing, too focused on my erratically beating heart. He was so close.

"Um... Sure. Let's go." I picked up my purse and made my way to the fireplace so we could floo home.

"I'm sorry I'm late, you know," he said to me while I searched for the missing floo powder. Where had it gone? It had been right above the fireplace this morning... "The meeting ran late. I saw you come by, earlier. You could have sat in, you know."

Ah. Had he seen me nearly panting over him too? Or was he under the impression I was mad at him still? Where the hell was that goddamn floo powder? Sighing, I began ruffling in my desk drawer, ignoring Draco for the moment. If we couldn't get home, I couldn't drag him to bed. What a catastrophe.

"Will you look at me when I'm talking to you?" he finally snapped, exasperated.

My head automatically snapped up to find him sitting on my desk with the pouch of floo powder resting in his hands. My mouth dropped open at the sight and the need momentarily abated. "You couldn't have told me you had the floo powder all this time while I was searching for it?" He just shrugged and I had to roll my eyes. "You're wasting my time!"

"Everything's about time with you!" he exclaimed back at me.

Oh no he didn't.

Grabbing his loosened tie, I pulled his head closer to mine. He seemed slightly surprised at my boldness and I narrowed my eyes. "I have been waiting... All. Fucking. Day. For. You!" I enunciated, tugging on his tie with each word for effect. I pushed him further back onto the desk so I could straddle him, and he just allowed me to, mutely. "Do _not _make me wait any longer."

And then the bastard smirked. "Yes, ma'am!"

Draco Malfoy was a snarky little fucker. What do you _do _with snarky fuckers? Well. You kiss them, and that's exactly what I did.

It was a wild, passionate kiss. A kind we hadn't been seeing these days. There was no reserve and definitely no gentleness – just raw heat. It was exactly what I needed, exactly what was necessary to sate me. Draco was pressed fully against me, his hands wandering along my sides, my back, and practically anything he could reach.

When he managed to un-tuck my white silk blouse from my skirt and slip his hands under, I stopped him, pulling away. His cheeks were tinged pink, his blond hair ruffled even more so than it had been before my touching and his lips were in a delicious swollen state.

Instead of moaning and jumping him on the desk like my brain and other parts of my anatomy wanted to, I took a pinch of floo powder, threw it in the grate and walked into the flames, smiling over my shoulder.

"Coming?" I asked, with a devious smile.

Without waiting for his response, I said our address and was home in a pinch. Unfortunately for me, you ought never to tease a dragon. He was on me before I had even managed to kick a shoe off. He literally carried me up to bed with one shoe dangling off my foot and a rumpled appearance.

I suppose to him it was all attractive.

Soon, he had managed to lay me in bed and tugged all of our clothes off. He didn't even bother removing the covers but instead just took me on them. When he finally filled me, I almost screamed. I was unaccustomed, almost. He groaned at the tightness.

It was fast. It was loud, sweaty, and hot. He marked me in several places and I'm rather sure the scratches down his back from my overly excited gripping hands would be there in the morning. But I didn't care. I just wanted his already brutish thrusting to thrust harder and for him to move faster.

_So, so close. _

"Draco, please," I choked out. The sound of my voice made him groan. "_Draco_," I moaned.

And with that he was undone. The feeling of him pulsing in me, the sweet warmth of his release made me finally lose it too. I almost cried at the feel of it. It was perfection, and this time I really did scream his name. His responding groan made me come all over again.

When I could finally breathe again, I found Draco unwilling to move off my chest. Frankly, I enjoyed him there. I could pretend he was completely mine this way and no one would ever see him the way I do.

He was beautiful, in the half light. Flushed, sweaty and completed. I stroked his hair out of his eyes and he stared up confusedly at me. I smiled, softly. He _was _mine, but not for long. Because I was leaving, wasn't I? Yes, he was mine for now. So I stared, stroking his hair and every line on his face until I had the image of him imprinted into my mind.

"What are you staring at?" he finally asked.

"Mm...just you, love."

He got up onto his elbows then, kissed me on the cheek and smiled. "Yes, I can see that. But _why _is the question."

I pushed him over and giggled at his indignation. "Just because you're _gorgeous. _I mean, who wouldn't want to stare at a Malfoy, right?"

"Damn straight!" he grinned.

Pulling me into his arms, he ran his fingers gently down my side. It was a comforting feeling, one that would always calm me no matter what the situation. I kissed his shoulder, then his neck before continuing to stare at him.

"But seriously," he continued after a long bout of silence. "Why are you staring?"

Damn. Was I honestly that obvious? Well, yes. Everyone told me I was practically an open book most of the time. I wouldn't know discreet if it looked me in the face! Well goddamn it all, I'm not a Slytherin, alright? I don't normally _do _this kind of stuff. I contemplated telling him the truth. After all, he did deserve to know... I think at some level he already knew what I was about to say. Relationships are built on honesty and trust, right? So I would trust him and be honest with him.

"Well... in case I don't have this opportunity again."

The happy expression on his face was gone in a second.

"What do you mean?" he asked wearily. I could feel the anger bubbling under his skin. His arms tightened around me and suddenly I wished he hadn't stopped stroking me so calmly a moment before.

"I mean... I..."

"_Nothing _is going to happen to you, I thought we had already gone over this," he nearly spat out. I sighed. Yes, we _had _gone over it. I had sat there while he had shouted at me about how I wasn't going to die. "Don't roll your eyes at me! What kind of bloody nonsense is this, Hermione? Why are you _hell bent on making some crack pot prophecy come true?_"

Fuck truth and trust.

"You're right," I said, earnestly. "I'm sorry."

He narrowed his eyes at me but I just turned to grab my wand and flick the lights shut. Draco got out of bed to use the loo and I lay there facing the wall, fuming. Why wouldn't he just come to grips with the fact that I was meant to go now? Was he going to be delusional to the day that I die? It was unrealistic. It was sadistic of him.

I wasn't asking for him to accept it openly, but maybe he could just fucking acknowledge the truth instead of being a hard headed idiot!

When he finally returned, I refused to turn and look at him but I couldn't make myself shake off his arms when he pulled my body to his, getting comfortable and ready to sleep. I had a feeling neither of us would be sleeping in such a tense shape.

But after 30 minutes, with his breath slowly grazing the back of my neck, that perspective began to change. I began to drift off to sleep, when he finally spoke in quiet whisper.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," he said, barely breathing. In my sleepy state, I almost believed him too, he was that confident. But this was one thing confidence just couldn't change. He kissed the back of my neck, gently, and I shivered. "I can't let anything happen to you, Hermione. I'd die. I can't lose you. I _need _you. So you won't go, alright?"

My heart melted.

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to tell him everything was going to be alright, but I didn't want to give him any false hopes. I was torn in half.

"I love you," I said. I could feel him nod behind me, and he kissed the back of my neck once more.

And that was that. We had reached a compromise. He knew I would stand by my prophecy and I knew he would do anything to stop what was going to happen. I would allow him to do what he felt was necessary and he was going to make sure I didn't give in too easily.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered back.

And then, with the resounding silence we both drifted to sleep.

**A/N: See you next week! **

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath: **DH2 _was _pretty good! I agree with you about the 3D, you could barely tell it was there. And I've no idea about the screaming – the trailer was seemingly deceptive. And I suppose they could've hired someone with a more...manly scream, but that's all in the past! Thanks for your review – I'm glad you're enjoying. I hope this chapter was as up to par as the last one.


	35. The Confrontation

A/N: And so it is resolved! I really hope you like this chapter, it was difficult to write. Five more chapters to go! So let me know what you think about the huge surprise.

Tomorrow I'm posting the first chapter of my new story: When a Stranger Calls – info and update dates will all be on my profile so stay tuned for that.

Thank you, as always, to my lovely reviewers: xenaz3, semantics, weirdgiraffe, and Alexybath.

**Chapter 35: The Confrontation **

**Hermione:**

"Are you sure you'll be alright here by yourself?" Ginny asked me from the doorway, looking concerned. "I know it's silly, but even _I _get the creeps from this place sometimes, even after all these years..."

I smiled at her sincerity. "Don't worry, Ginny. I'll be okay. It's only for a few hours, right?" Ginny nodded. "Besides, I have my little Superman here with me, don't I?" Scorpius peaked up at Ginny from behind my legs and grinned at her.

"I'll keep mummy safe, Auntie Ginny!" he assured her.

It was so cute that we both burst out laughing. I patted him on the head and picked him up so he could rest comfortably on my hip. Scorpius and I watched Ginny walk down the grimy pathway before apparating away with Lily secure in her arms.

Ginny had asked me if I could possibly watch over the house while she took Lily to St. Mungos for her regular check up. Normally she would've just gone no problem, but today there were people from the renovation agency due to come and take measurements of the house. Ginny hadn't noticed the schedule conflict until it was too late to do anything but find someone to supervise.

It hadn't been much of a problem to fill in for Ginny. All of the other little children had been left under the watchful care of Mrs. Weasley at the Burrow, and as the renovators already had a key to get in, I would just have to just be here and make sure nothing was broken.

"What do you say we make a huge batch of cookies?" I asked Scorpius. "Shall we surprise the rest? I say chocolate chip."

Scorpius shook his head. "Peanut butter."

I tsked. "You very well know Albus is allergic to peanuts, Scorpius!" I mock scolded. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and shook his head again. "How about you get changed into your other clothes while I get started, darling? We wouldn't want to ruin these pretty clothes papa brought for you from France."

Scorpius looked horrified. "I shan't make a mess!" he squeaked.

"Run along and change or no cookies for you!"

He pouted in a fashion similar to his father. I wondered if Draco had taught him that... I wouldn't be surprised. Draco was _constantly_ teaching him things I didn't approve of. Pouting to get your way in things is NOT appropriate, for example.

Making my way to the basement kitchen brought back memories that I didn't necessarily want to remember. Not that those days of my life hadn't been good (certainly, not all of them were bad). I was just living a much better life now. I wondered how it all would be if things had just been...different.

Humming to take the chill away, I began to prepare the cookie dough.

Butter? Check! Measuring out the brown sugar, vanilla, flour, baking soda and salt took a minute and 54 seconds. It wasn't that I was counting or anything like that. I was just impatiently staring at the clock waiting for Scorpius to hurry and come downstairs. I didn't like the thought of him wandering around the house, even though this was technically his second home.

Just as the clock hit a two minutes and 32 seconds, Draco literally burst through the door.

The eggs I had been about to crack into the bowl were crushed in my hands as I was startled from the sound. I had almost let out a loud scream except I had noticed exactly who it was that had completely _destroyed _the kitchen door. It lay there in splinters.

"What the _hell, _Draco! Why did you do that?" I asked him.

But he didn't answer. Instead he stood there, staring at me.

No, staring wouldn't be the right word. He stood there _glaring _at me. For some reason, Draco looked really, really angry. I had no idea why he would be. Had something gone wrong at work? Had I done something wrong? Going through every possible option in my head, I couldn't find anything that came to mind. At least, I didn't _think_ I'd done anything wrong...

"What's wrong...?" I finally asked him.

And then he lunged.

I barely had time to get out of the way and he crashed into the table that I had been making cookies on. I was surprised. I was _disturbed. _Draco wanted to...hurt me?

When I attempted to pull my wand out of my trouser pocket, I saw him wave his wand and my only lifeline soared right out of my hands and into his palm. We both paused for a moment, regarding each other, but I could not find any of the warmth that usually was present in his warm eyes. I only saw hate and anger.

It scared me.

Staring me straight in the eye, Draco snapped my wand in half. _My wand! _It was as if my breath had been taken away from me, my limb snapped off. How could he do something like that to me? Hurt me, sure, but destroy the one thing that had linked me permanently to the magical world? How could he!

I didn't have the time to contemplate the abuse that he had just dealt onto me, because he lunged again. This time I was ready for him and my knee met solidly with his groin. Not waiting for his reaction I bounded from the room, tears streaming down my face.

The love of my life had just tried to kill me.

Sprinting down the hallway, I'd just made it to the stairs when I heard a crash from the kitchen. Not wasting any time, I bounded up the stairs as fast as I could, looking for Scorpius. I felt so hurt, so fucking betrayed. I couldn't even begin to believe what was happening but... I didn't have time to think.

But then I had to stop.

_Running, running, hiding. Feeling more betrayed than I could imagine. Hurt._

That was the vision. I had seen that this would happen. So I somehow had been warned all along that it would come to this. That I would be savagely hurt. And for what? Why? Because fate had a fucking plan? Well, fate. Here's some news. I'm tired of you messing around with my head!

With a new found resolution to _live, _I hurried and searched as quietly as I could for Scorpius. I didn't care if Draco hurt me now. He could hurt me all he liked. I was not going to die and Scorpius was not going to be hurt. I would see to it personally, even if that meant gouging the man's eyes out myself.

Finally, I found Scorpius hiding under his bed. Picking up the scared little child, I placed him inside his closet. He wouldn't have to see his father behaving so... evilly. My hands began to shake, but I had to control myself. This was going to be the moment where everything was resolved.

Even if I did die, I was not going without a fight. If I was going to die, I was taking as many arseholes as I could with me.

"Stay here, sweetheart. Don't come out for _anything, _okay? Promise me."

"I promise," he said quietly, his eyes wide.

I kissed his cheek. "Don't look, alright? I'm going to be right back and if I don't come, Auntie Ginny will find you. I promise." He nodded. I had him hide in the very back of the tiny closet, hoping against hope that Draco wasn't aware that his son was here.

_Please God let him think he went with the Potters! _

I stood there holding a pair of scissors as my only line of defence, waiting. If he was going to come up here and attempt to harm my son, I would damage him enough to buy enough time to get Scorpius past him and out the door. And then we would run.

Yes, that's exactly how I was going to do it. _Good thinking!_

A whole three minutes passed and still nothing. When my nerves were finally going to get the better of me, I heard a crash that seemed to have come from right at the foot of the stairs. It made me jump, and I could hear Scorpius moving in the closet.

"Don't move, Scorpius," I said in a low voice. I didn't know if he had heard me or not, but the noise stopped. Or perhaps it was just masked from the noises that were now coming from downstairs. I intended to wait out whatever the fucker was doing down there until I began to smell something strange coming from downstairs.

_Was that smoke? _

Fucking hell, what ought I to _do? _I couldn't risk just staying here if it was smoke. Scorpius and I would be burnt to a crisp! I would have to go see. There was no other option. Clutching the scissors tighter in my hand, I began to creep out of the room, crouching so that no one would be able to see me.

With the smoke that was now filling the hallway; no one _would _be able to see me.

Before I could make it to the stairway railing and peer down at the commotion, I heard a yell.

"_Hermione! _Run Hermione! RUN!" My eyes widened in shock.

The voice... it sounded exactly like Draco! I could tell that voice apart from anyone's, anywhere, anytime. But why would Draco be telling me to run if he was the one trying to kill me? Peering over the banister at the hallway below, I gasped.

There were flames licking the wall, fire rapidly spreading and emitting treacherous smoke. But that was not the main attraction. There were _two _Dracos savagely fighting each other. Not one, _two_ exact replicas attempting to mutilate the other. Which was which?

I didn't have the chance to discern because one had managed to hit the other brutally enough for him to fall down. He fell, clearly unconscious with a thick pool of blood seeping away from his head. I choked back a cry. I hoped against hope that that hadn't been _my _Draco. I prayed a silent prayer, but I couldn't stay.

I couldn't go and help him if he was my Draco, because if it was, Scorpius was now in danger.

When the remaining Draco proceeded to lift a vase on a nearby table and drop it onto the already injured head of the fallen, I screamed. Immediately, the man looked up and found my position, hidden near the staircase. Leaving his fallen counterpart on the ground, he sprinted after me and I made a dead run towards Scorpius' room.

Before I could shut the door behind me and barricade it, the man had forced himself through, gotten a hold of me and punched me brutally. I fell to the floor immediately, a little disoriented from the blow and the following fall.

Staring up at my aggressor from my vantage point on the floor, I realized that this was definitely not my Draco. No. His face was a violent shade of red. Draco _never _got that red... granted that the house was now burning down around us, perhaps it was a different story. But his walk, when he took a few steps towards me, was nothing like the calm stride of my love. His clothes, they were nothing like Draco's...

How had I not seen it all before it was all too late?

He made to come towards me and probably hit me again, but Scorpius emerged from his hiding place in the closet and ran at the monster, beating his fists against the intruder's legs. "Don't hurt my mummy!" he screamed.

The man who looked so painfully like Draco had a surprised look painted on his face. Picking Scorpius up and holding the wriggling child in front of him as if the little boy were a squealing, disgusting pig, he stared down at me in horrific hate and disgust.

Fear seeped through my veins and I was frozen to my spot on the ground. I was afraid that if I moved, the man would kill my baby... My bones were locked and tears poured freely down my face.

"All this time," said the man in a voice that was _nothing _like Draco's, "you've been _breeding _with the Death Eater scum and you hid it from me?" he shouted, shaking Scorpius in the air.

Right before our eyes, Draco began to change. His hair was no longer the white blond I had fallen in love with. His eyes changed from a startling grey to a dull, empty blue.

"After everything, you whored yourself out to the ferret? You slut! How could you defile yourself like that? You gave yourself up to him when... You. Belonged. To. _Me!_"

As he spoke, the transformation continued before my eyes and all I could do was sit there in shock and pain. The tall man became taller, his posture became haggard, his face sunken and withered away. His fingers became filthy and his skin ashen. A lot had changed about this man over the years he had been absent from everyone's lives, but there was no mistaking his identity.

It had been Ron all this time.

Fully transformed back into his own self, the figure of the boy I had once known had completely changed. He was dark, he was empty...and he was more than broken. Ron Weasley was a psychopath. When his fingers closed around my son's neck, I realized I had to act now.

I'm not sure what gave me the courage to lunge myself against him at that very moment, but I managed to knock him down. Scorpius fell and hearing a snap, I worried that he had broken a bone. He sobbed, but I dragged him away from the now angrier Ron. We didn't make it far before Ron was up on his feet again. He rummaged through his ill fitting clothing and brought out a wand that looked just like Draco's. All I could do was cower on the floor before him, holding my crying child.

"Please, Ron. _Please_. Kill me. Kill me, don't kill the child, he's innocent!"

The flames had reached our floor finally, and the smoke had started to become acrid. I wondered if Draco had managed to get away or if he was gone forever now. It suddenly dawned on me now how Lily Potter must have felt in her dying moments.

In fact, I realized now that I was in the exact same situation. Fate was cruel... fate was so, so cruel. My husband lay fallen at the hands of a psychopath, falling to protect his family. I now lay between said psychopath and my son. Maybe...maybe my love for Scorpius could protect him how Harry had been protected. A scar was nothing. Let him live!

"Kill me, Ron, let the boy go," I said with a new found determination.

Ron shook his head. "You have to get them early, Hermione. They're all the same, these Death Eater bastards. They're all the same."

"Ron, please!"

"No. I'm sorry, Hermione, but you've already chose your side. I told you, I told you over and over again. You don't _fraternize with the enemy!_" He seemed even more enraged at the thought that I had a family with an ex Death Eater than he had before.

I closed my eyes.

"Please!"

"_Avada_-"

Instead of a flash of green light, I heard a very loud crashing noise. Opening my eyes, I saw a cloud of smoke, Ron falling to the floor and a very bloody Draco standing above him. I cried in relief, still unable to move. Draco rushed towards us, embraced us tightly and sighed.

"Fucker missed with the vase," he muttered into my ear. I just pressed my head into the crook of his neck and held onto the now hysteric Scorpius tighter. The house was coming down around us, but I was too relieved to care. Draco was alive. Draco would take care of us now. "We have to get out of here. Can you stand?" he shouted over the din.

Picking up the wand that had fallen out of Ron's hands, I quickly stunned him before he could get up. Draco gently pried it from my fingers and I stared at him, still in a daze.

"I'm going to levitate us out the window," he said to me.

I simply nodded and allowed him to lead me to the window. Gripping Scorpius safely, Draco carefully removed us from the building. Over his shoulder, I could see Ron laying on the floor, still stunned.

_A fire, and a man burning in the flames..._

And so another vision had come to pass. My eyes were once again blurred with tears as I was reuinited with my family. I was alive. I was _alive, _goddamnit! And my stalker was dead. I could laugh and cry at the same time. That's exactly what I did, holding Draco who finally looked over our poor child for injuries, blood dripping down his own face.

"How did you know to come?" I finally asked him when we were surrounded by aurors, healers, and ministry damage control members.

"It's a curious thing," he managed to smile and I automatically smiled back. Scorpius was safely tucked into my lap and fast asleep, a blanket wrapped around him. "I was having lunch with George Weasley who happened to mention the return of a shunned brother."

And so, I began to realize, maybe a happily ever after _did _exist for Hermione Malfoy.

**A/N: So what did you think? **

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath: **I'm flattered. Though I'm not sure if I ought to take that as a compliment... Hope you enjoyed!


	36. Anticlimactic

A/N: I got both amused and teary writing this chapter. I know you're going to yell at me for it, but it had to happen... I'm sorry!

IMPORTANT! Tomorrow I'm going to be releasing a one-shot companion to this story – it's about Luna's life and how she got tangled up into this mess. So stay tuned for that! Also, if you haven't checked out my other new story "When a Stranger Calls" do that now. : ) Thank you! You people are awesome.

Also, thank you to: weirdgiraffe, semantics, xenaz3, Alexybath, whitestripes123, JRRTFrk (x6) and knut4yourthoughts. I wouldn't be able to go on without you guys.

**Chapter 36: Anticlimactic **

**Hermione: 3 Years Later**

In the end, everything always is anticlimactic in real life.

Sure, you have your exceptions. For example: Harry Potter killing Lord Voldemort after completely trumping the killing curse a second time – climactic? You bloody bet! And now he has a happy, bustling life with a wife who controls him. Anti-climactic.

Dumbledore? Killed by his closest confidant to save a blondie. Climactic. But, for us normal people, the world doesn't work like that. We have our drastic, hell bent, crazy moments – and then when it's time to do the stuff that actually matters, it seems you've fallen short of the standard.

And me? I'm exactly short of the standard, no matter what anyone else wants to think.

After all, no matter all that I had gone through, there were still critics out there thinking that I had fallen short of my brilliant potential. To those people I say screw you. I'm quite happy where I am, thank you very much.

I had a fulfilling job and a fulfilling family. My life had had its twists and turns, so naturally when it finally came down to the details of my happily ever after – it _would _be anticlimactic in comparison.

Yes. Hermione Malfoy now lived a quiet life writing complicated textbooks, papers, and research theories. Yes, I, Hermione Malfoy, am especially contented with my life.

At present, we had moved back to where it had all began for an indefinite amount of time. New York City in all its finery and glory, I love thee! The city had a life of its own. It breathed and sang, was grumpy and swore at you like your own spouse. I loved it.

Granted, I had come here to research for my new book, but that was all background information.

Life here was as great as it had been for me all those years ago. Except better if possible. How can life be better when you have a gorgeous man on your side, you ask? Well, now I didn't have to go to some ratty ministry job. And instead of slaving away stressfully at the office, I now had a job that was lovely and a child I adored.

Oh, and friends. I had real friends now. Zara was delighted that we weren't just here to visit, of course. But I had found an old friend in the hustle and bustle of the city.

Yes, folks. Luna Lovegood had come to town.

/

One evening, whilst walking home from the movies, we bumped into a very spindly looking blonde girl attached to an equally spindly looking blonde man. At first, I thought I was dreaming when Draco said hello and introduced me to the woman.

Could it _really _have been Luna Lovegood halfway around the world? After the war, she had completely disappeared and her father had continued to run his magazine as if he hadn't had a daughter at all to begin with. It had been a bit startling, but no one had questioned it. Many were aware that the Death Eaters had captured Luna, but very few knew that she had escaped. Almost everyone had assumed that she had died in the battle. Even I had. So seeing her here in the street was an enormous shock.

I'd stared at her shocked, surprised – after all, it isn't every day you find someone you fought a war with half way around the world.

No, Draco doesn't count.

I hadn't known how to say hello, still too shocked, but Draco, acting like the idiot he is just rambled on and on and on until I'd finally started paying attention to what he was saying.

"... she was my therapist, remember? Back when I –"

Ignoring him for the moment, I nearly bounded onto her like a madwoman and hugged the hell out of her. What can I say... I'm an affectionate human being. If I were a pokemon, my attack would be bear hugs. Literally. I will hug you to death and smother you with love.

Unless you're a stinky monster, then you're out of luck.

She enthusiastically hugged me back, of course. "Is it _really _you?" I'd asked her at that point. She'd just nodded. "Did you say she was your _therapist? _Why didn't you tell me before!" I asked Draco over my shoulder, my arm still around Luna.

Draco chuckled sheepishly. "Well...confidentiality! Besides, I hadn't known you two were close."

I shrugged and Luna had just smiled serenely. "The nargles must have gotten him," she said in that dreamy voice of hers.

After all these years I see her, and she just _had _to bring up her magical, fictional creatures as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Leave it to Luna Lovegood to bring an awkward pause in an otherwise delightful reunion of very old friends. But because I was just so _happy _to see her, I decided to ignore her insanity.

But the man that had been with her must have noticed our uncomfortable pause.

"What Luna is referring to," he said in a know-it-all voice that Harry said I possessed, "are the _Memoriam mortiferis. _Creatures that live in the southern part of New Guinea that have the uncanny ability to disorient their victim and give them temporary memory loss in order to devour them. The locals refer to these creatures as nargles." He stared lovingly down at Luna. "Though entirely impossible for them to be present here. Interesting fact, the first Memory Modifying Charm was created through observing these creatures in –"

"1145, by the Korowai wizarding tribe," I interrupted, smiling. "I didn't know the locals referred to them as nargles. That's really quite an interesting addition... I'm thinking you've read _Magical Creatures and their Spellworking Properties?_"

"Are you joking?" the man asked me, pushing the bridge of his glasses farther up his nose. "Hermione Granger is a genius! Have _you _read her works?"

Draco couldn't help it. He burst out into laughter. "I should _hope _so," he muttered snidely, grinning at Luna. She was smiling, but the poor man just looked blindly at us for a clue.

"I have read the books, yes," I eventually said kindly, smiling up at him.

"Am I missing something?" he asked, looking at the three of us, a bit put out I could tell, and extremely confused.

"Oh, nothing important," I assured him.

It took him the next three hours to figure out exactly who I was and when he finally did, a deep red blush was present on his cheeks for the rest of the night, much to the amusement of everyone else. But for me, well, I'd found an intellectual who was actually interested in the same things as I was. It was refreshing.

It took _me _exactly three weeks to figure out that Luna was married to the man and had a 7 year old son as well. Scorpius found a new play mate and I found another family to invite over on Sundays.

It all seems to happen for a reason in the end.

/

Things slowly became a regular pattern in my life. It was a sort of calm before the storm. I had Scopius to look after, his father to take care of, and a social life to keep up with. Not to mention the hours and hours of research I had to keep up with for my new book. It was fulfilling to the extent that each night, I'd fall asleep immediately, as soon as my head touched the pillow.

It was enough to take my mind off the fact that it was probably around the time I was supposed to die. That's alright though, I tell myself. But it's not _really _alright. I'm scared out of my bloody mind. Not that anyone else needs to know.

Riddle had slowly attempted to make the passing easier, but as he's an idiotic arsehole, that really didn't help me all that much.

Figures.

/

"It really isn't that bad, you know. You might get an eternity of spending time with me! You never know... You might get lucky."

I buried my head in my arms. "You're really not helping, Riddle!" I groaned at him. "Why are you still talking? Go away!"

"Since when do you not want me to talk? I'm Tom bloody Riddle! Everyone loves to hear me talk." When I looked up at him sceptically, I saw him grinning. So the git was just trying to amuse me, was he? I wasn't _really _in the mood for being amused.

"Who would want to hear you talk? You're a boring old geezer."

His mouth dropped open and he stared at me in shock. "I resent that! Just because I'm _dead _doesn't mean I don't have _feelings_, woman. I demand that you apologize, instantly!" I just shrugged and he managed to glare at me before stomping off.

"Oh, alright, I was only joking," I called after him. "No need to get your knickers in a bunch."

"That," he said, flicking my ear, "is not an apology." But he still came and sat down across from me at the table I was sitting at. "Why are you worried, anyhow? Death is but the next great adventure." There was such an air of forced wisdom in his voice that I was just forced to look up at him with a conflicted expression on my face. Was I meant to laugh or let him continue?

He made up my mind for me. "What, the Dark Lord can't be wise too?"

I laughed. "I _know _for a fact you stole that quote for Dumbledore." I just laughed harder at his horrified expression.

"Why do you have to be such a _know-it-all_?" he asked indignantly, with his arms crossed over his chest. He began to mutter something that sounded suspiciously like "_Damned mudbloods and old faggoty coots..." _

"I resent that," came a voice from somewhere behind us. "My sexual preferences should not characterize my intellect."

Turning around I found Professor Dumbledore smiling at us from a distance. I smiled back warmly. "Hello Professor. Care to join us?"

Riddle looked horrified at the prospect, but he couldn't make his escape quick enough. And so he was stuck with his biggest enemy beside him on a stone cold bench. I smiled at the pair. One exuded wisdom, the other knowledge. They weren't so different, really. They both had like minds. One was just more..._pragmatic _than the other.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation –"

"Bet you couldn't," Riddle added in, snidely. God he was _such _a child sometimes!

But Dumbledore just smiled politely, as if he was used to Riddle's abnormal behaviour. On second thought, he probably _was _used to it. Dumbledore patted Riddle's hand and continued. "Death _is _after all the next great adventure."

"What will it be like, Professor?" I asked him.

He looked at me strangely for a moment before Riddle stepped in and saved the awkward moment. So I suppose the man _did _have his purposes. "Cold," he offered. "Very very cold." Dumbledore chuckled but I didn't understand what was so funny. As if sensing my question, Riddle continued. "We wouldn't know what it is like to be dead because we are not truly dead ourselves."

Dumbledore sighed. "That is an unfortunate fact, indeed."

I looked at them both perplexed, searching one face and then the other. When they didn't offer up further explanation, I pouted. So they weren't going to make it easier for me, were they! "What do you mean? You both _are_..."

"Our physical manifestations have been destroyed, yes," Riddle said in an overly exasperated voice, as if I should already know all of this information. "But our souls are stuck here," he gestured to the general area around him. "In this world."

"But why?" I asked, still confused. "Why haven't you...gone beyond? What _is _beyond?"

Now Riddle was annoyed. "I couldn't _tell _you, I've never been."

Dumbledore clapped Riddle over the head and I was strongly reminded of Professor Snape taking part in a similar action during a study period in our fourth year. Ah, good times... "Patience, Master Riddle," he said in a sagely voice. I could almost detect a hint of sarcasm and couldn't help but grin.

"That's right, Master Riddle! Patience is a virtue," I couldn't help but add in. I suppose it wasn't fair ganging up on him, but someone needed to push him off his self made pedestal.

"Beyond is decidedly a gateway to a place that has no ties to this world. Some have not gone through the door because their purpose has not yet been completed," Dumbledore continued, this time with an edge of sadness in his voice. I had a strong suspicion he was speaking of himself and I truly felt bad for him. He had done enough for the world, hadn't he? He should have been able to move on. "But others," he stared pointedly at Riddle, "are simply not able to."

"How do you mean, Professor?"

"They are either not willing or their metaphysical manifestations are not capable, or too damaged, to pass through the gateways."

Riddle was staring off into space, seemingly ignoring our conversation. "Well, what can they do?" I asked, for his sake. I saw him twitch at the question.

"Ah, but that is the question. It depends largely on the person. Some simply need to feel deserving enough. Others need to be rebuilt through extremely painful remorse." He stood up, patted Riddle on the shoulder and shook my hand. "I must be going, children. There is a curious little boy that should not be awake at this hour."

And with that mysterious note he was gone.

I stared at Riddle questioningly, but he just shrugged as if to say "don't ask me, I don't know how his brain works". Sighing, I copied his earlier move, staring off into space before realizing I probably ought to leave and get an early start on my day. Getting up to leave and making my way to the door, I heard Riddle speak again, but it seemed it was more to himself than to me.

"It _is _cold. But I suppose that is the fate I deserve... Not for you though, Hermione Granger. You're much too strong to be left behind." I heard him sigh. What did that mean? I was too afraid to acknowledge that he had spoken at all. "To be courageous is to accept one's destiny and step towards it regardless of where it leads you," he told me, looking at me straight in the eye this time. "To be selfless is to suffer for a cause bigger than your own."

So perhaps he was wise after all.

**3 Weeks Later: **

It was a bright Sunday afternoon and we had decided to invite our friends over for a drink. A drink quickly turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into Draco declaring it was time to barbeque.

Overall, it wasn't such a bad idea. Luna, Zara, and I watched Draco and Ralph (Luna's smarty pants husband) argue over exactly how the barbeque worked, while the kids played in our expansive backyard. Men, as men are, amused themselves over the intricacies of outdoor equipment – and as usual, failed miserably.

_Wizards, _honestly.

Zara's three children, while adorable, created chaos that would put the Potters to shame. They were really _that _mischievous. So, like the genius that I am, I introduced them to wizard's chess.

It was quite the ingenious move on my part, Zara later told me. The violence of the game was enough to keep them enraptured with it for hours on end and the necessary brain power involved them to the extent that they were happily occupied in the shade of our rather large back garden. That obviously meant no destruction for the duration of their stay. Thank God.

Not that they were quiet in the least, mind you. I hadn't heard a louder bunch in all of my days around children. I had no idea how Zara managed them and keep up with a house, a job, and a fabulous appearance all at the same time.

No, I was happy I just had the one excitable child. I didn't need a gang.

How the hell had Molly Weasley managed?

Now that my mind had fallen on the subject of my son, I looked around for Scorpius and found him playing in the sandbox we had installed for him a year or two ago. He was building sandcastles with Luna's adorable child. If I remembered correctly, which I always do, her name was Miriam.

I wanted to kidnap the kid and call her my own, she was that adorable. Long blonde hair, brilliantly blue eyes and Luna's serene calm. It seemed like she never cried, always listened, and was the model child. It was the kind of kid you always wanted to offer ice cream to and spoil rotten.

Watching them play, a cold feeling swept over me that was completely not in touch with the mood of the party.

_A blond little girl and a boy with chocolate coloured hair and grey eyes playing in a sandbox._

Yes. It was a vision. It was the last vision between me and my death. My buffer. My heart clenched and for a moment or two I was mortified, paralyzed with fear. And all I could do was just stand there, chanting to myself: _it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay... _

No one seemed to notice me and my fear, not for a while at least. Soon it was time to go and eat Draco's half cooked, half burnt, half raw meat (which Zara skilfully replaced with meat she had been cooking in the background with magic in the kitchen) and we all had a relatively nice meal sitting in the sun. It was alright, really. I was okay.

At least, that's what everyone else thought.

After everyone had eaten, we sat around lounging in the shade. But I couldn't sit still. I really didn't want to lounge around. I just wanted to get out of here. Noticing there were no more beers in the fridge, I offered myself up to go to the store.

"We also need milk," Draco called to me from his place in the overly big lawn chair, with Scorpius settled on his lap. "Don't take too long, okay?" I nodded.

I went inside to get my purse and came back to kiss Scorpius on each cheek. "Be good, okay? Don't give your father any trouble while I'm gone." Giving Draco an extra tight hug that I held for a few seconds longer than necessary, I said my goodbyes to everyone and made my way to the door.

What I didn't notice in my hurry was that Luna had followed.

"Hermione?" she called after me when I'd reached the front door. There was an odd expression on her face, one that looked quite out of place on her normally serene demeanour. I wondered what was wrong.

"Yes?" I asked. I was still in quite a hurry, but I supposed if it was _that _important... my little stroll could wait.

"Are you sure you want to go out now? I... I suppose I have a bad feeling about it." She stared at me awkwardly.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't go," she said, her eyes suddenly wide and a desperate expression on her face.

"Why, Luna?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea..."

She bit her lip as I put my arm around her shoulders. "I think I have to, you know?" There was a sort of light in her eyes and comprehension dawned on her face. "It's going to be good for me. To clear my head and such. Besides, I'm tired of being stuffed up in this house all day!" I smiled at her, encouragingly.

"You have to?" She questioned, a sort of childlike expression now on her face.

She seemed so trusting... Well. Whatever works, right? "Yes, Luna," I coaxed. "I have to."

She hugged me tightly around the middle. It was so sudden that I didn't even know how to react, so I simply patted her awkwardly on the back. Her long, waist length hair flowed around her, and her eyes were mysteriously wet. Why the hell was she crying? I was only going to the _store. _

"I'll miss you then. Come back soon, okay?" I nodded, feeling weirded out. Patting her on the shoulder this time, I made my way out the door. "Don't let the fillywigs get in your hair!" she shouted after me.

Yes, some things never change.

It turned out that going out to run errands had been good to clear my mind. I had rationalized myself into staying calm, avoiding a panic attack. So what if a vision had passed? It didn't necessarily _mean _anything. And even if it did... well, that should be okay too! Right? RIGHT?

With my arms full of grocery bags, I made my way down the street. Silently wishing I'd brought the car instead of walking so I wouldn't have had to carry such a heavy weight, I made my way back home. It was too hot for this much exercise. Why the hell had I done this on my own?

Crossing the road was a hassle in itself, but when my foot reached the middle of the paved hell, I immediately knew something was horribly wrong. First, there were screams and yells, and an entirely confusing din. Who were they yelling at, anyways? And secondly, brakes should _not _be squealing that hard.

The next thing I knew I was on the ground and in extreme hot flashing pain.

I knew I was bleeding, I was pretty sure whoever had hit me with their car had smashed several bones. I was seeing black spots. Was this the end? Suddenly, my mind flashed back to the ordeal I had suffered three years ago. To be killed by a psychopath... I remembered wishing fate would give me something easier.

"_Fate was a really cruel bitch. Couldn't it just hit me with a car or something? A quick death as opposed to some psychopath raging after me?"_

Damn you fate! Why the hell do you actually have to listen to me, hm? I'm not serious when I talk, really. You should just learn to ignore me when I yell at you. I'm human after all. We all have our weak spots! You're not all that great yourself, you know...

When I realized exactly what I was thinking to myself, I attempted to laugh. That was a very bad idea, obviously, because I started to cough up blood. I could hear people yelling around me. I could hear sirens blazing. But I really didn't care anymore. I realized I had seen this coming all along.

Me, _laying, bleeding, torn. Tears falling from my eyes, but oddly at peace._

Yes, I _had _seen it all those years ago, hadn't I? Why had I been so afraid? I had known I would be peaceful. And truthfully, I was peaceful. I was laying on concrete, blood pooling from my body and I was rather torn up. I was slowly weeping from the pain, but I was no longer afraid. This was what was meant to happen. A self fulfilling prophecy.

And in the end, it _had _been anticlimactic. Nothing fancy. Just an old car. How sad is that? And it had all been of my own doing in the end. Not fighting a war, not a raging psychopath...not even a research accident! Just me and my own foolishness.

After all, if I had just listened to Luna I wouldn't be here right now, would I? If I had maybe paid more attention instead of wrapped up in my thoughts of dying – I would probably be alive. It was _meant _to happen this way. Things were slowly fading, my vision dying out around me.

But I didn't panic. Instead, I remembered the wisdom that had touched my heart.

To be courageous is to accept one's destiny and step towards it regardless of where it leads you. To be selfless is to suffer for a cause bigger than your own.

Riddle had really hit home there. I shouldn't be afraid. No, I was calm. I had lived happily with Draco and had a beautiful, lovely son. I had everything I needed. And I was suffering for a cause fate had decided I needed to be a part of. But I'd done it willingly. And now that my time was up – I was willingly going.

My eyes burned, my breathing was laboured. I could hear the muggle paramedics attempt to bring me to life. I wanted to laugh at them for trying. I wanted to thank them for attempting to do their job. But it was useless. It's useless, stop trying. It's time for me to go now.

I was aware of the amount of blood I had lost. I was woozy. My body was wracked with pain. I thought I saw a flash of blonde rushing towards me, but it was probably just my heart aching for Draco to be here with me, these last moments. My breathing slowly stopped. My heartbeat sputtered.

And just like that, I was gone. But I had not gone in fear, nor in loathing. I was not sad.

After all, death _is _just the next great adventure.

**A/N: So... am I going to have any readers next week? I promise it'll be worth it. **

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath**: I certainly hope that this chapter lived up to the drama expectation! But perhaps I ought to watch out for you trying to kill me in my sleep now. Thanks for reviewing!


	37. Sowing Season

A/N: So here we are again! If anyone is still reading. Another sad (but necessary) chapter with a surprise ending! I hope you enjoy. To those of you who read and reviewed my one shot companion to this story, thank you! You people are LOVELY! If you haven't read it yet, please check it out.

Song recommendation for this chapter – which I don't normally do, but it fits the mood and is the chapter title. **Sowing Season by Brand New. **

Thank you to: weirdgiraffe, semantics, Alexybath, xenaz3, Dimitriluvrforeva, and whitestripes123 for reviewing.

**Chapter 37: Sowing Season **

**Draco: **

When I opened the door, I had still been smiling from something Zara had told me. It had been a funny joke or something of the sort. But all thoughts of laughter and happiness seeped from my mind when I saw two muggle police officers staring at me.

Scorpius, who had thought his mother had come back with his requested treat, had followed me excitedly to the door. I shooed him back inside, stepping out and shutting the door behind me. Whatever it was, no one else needed to be involved.

"What can I do for you?" I asked them.

"Do you have any relation to Mrs. Hermione Malfoy, sir?" the shorter, darker skinned officer asked.

Fear coursed through my veins. "I'm her husband. What's happened?"

"I'm very sorry to inform you that your wife has been in a severe accident and is no longer with us, Mr. Malfoy..."

My heart stopped. I fell to my knees. This couldn't be happening. No, she was just getting the groceries. She was alright. They'd just confused this house with another one. After all, there were _many _Hermione Malfoys out there, I'm sure. Many, many, many...

The man had been saying something when I abruptly pulled myself to my feet. "Take me to her," I interrupted him in mid sentence. "Take me to her _now." _

"What's going on?" asked a voice from behind me. It was Zara followed by Luna.

"Take care of Scorpius," I barked at her. She seemed taken aback, but when she noticed the tears in my eyes, she didn't comment. "_Take me to her!_" I shouted this time at the officers.

The ride to the hospital took about ten minutes and it couldn't have gone by slower. What were they playing at, driving so slow when my wife might be suffering? Not that she was. No. Of course she wasn't. They were obviously lying. She was just... playing games with me. She just wanted to scare me.

It was working. I was scared. But I knew she was okay. She'd always be okay in the end.

I didn't know how I'd managed to get in front of two white double doors. Was this where she was hiding from me? She should know not to do something as silly as that. She could catch a cold or something. And then I'd be up all night hearing her cough and sneeze.

Walking through, I found two muggle healers working over a body. The officer informed them of who I was and they stared sadly back at me. Coming closer, I realized the body wasn't a body. It was Hermione. She lay there, bloodied and so pitifully broken. What was this nonsense? Why would she do this to herself just to scare me?

I walked towards her and put my hand over her shoulder, shaking her slightly. "Come on, Hermione. Wake up now. Time to go home."

When she didn't answer, her arm just falling limply to her side, I started to panic again. Getting to my knees beside her I tried again. "This isn't funny, Hermione. Wake up!"

One of the healers came to my side, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Son, she's not going to wake up..." he said, his voice still sad.

"Get off of me," I snarled at him. "Hermione, let's go. Get up! _Get up!" _

The two officers came to help restrain me. I struggled as hard as I could but in the end, the four managed to pull me out of the room.

"Let me see my wife! What the hell are you doing! Let me _go! Let me fucking go!_"

"Please, calm down-"

But I'd managed to get out of their grasp and back through the doors. They didn't stop me. Sobbing now, I held her hand to my cheek, stroking her hair that was matted with blood. "Please, Hermione, please... please don't leave me like this. Please!"

No answer. Nothing. Not even a flutter of her eyelids. Not a sputtering heartbeat.

Nothing.

It was cold. So, so cold.

And then, they made me leave by force. Luna had come with her husband, and together, they had used magic to force me to leave her side. I'd hate them forever for doing it. How could they when she was so broken? How could they take me from her?

I ran from them before they could take me home, apparating to a point in the city.

And I wandered for hours.

I couldn't think. She had abandoned me. She had left me to suffer alone. How could I live without her? I couldn't breathe. I could barely think. I had her blood on my hands. This was the last of her... her blood. She had _bled. _I would never see her again...

I found myself in an empty, disused park. The same one she had found me in all those years ago. Sitting on the bench, I finally found it in myself to sob.

I screamed to a God I knew who didn't care. I yelled for fate to bring her back to me, but there was no answer.

No answer.

Just an image of a lifeless hand wearing a wedding ring I had spent all day looking for.

And just like that, I was dead inside too.

I didn't know how long it was before Luna finally found me sitting lifelessly on a bench in that dreadfully haunting park. When she touched my shoulder to rouse me from my stupor, I had been startled. I had thought Hermione had finally quit playing a joke on me and come to get me so we could go home. Back to our lives like she should be instead of waiting to be put into the ground.

I turned around instead to find Luna's pale hand on my shoulder. The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. My heart froze and before she could open her mouth to say a thing, it was shattered to a million pieces.

Hermione was really gone. She had really left me.

I doubled over in pain. My body was wracked with tremors I couldn't stop. The tears didn't come. They had dried up. My body had nothing left to spare. I began to gasp for air... there wasn't enough oxygen in the world to sustain me...not now. Not after this.

I didn't fucking want to be sustained!

Suddenly, I felt a pair of tiny hands on my head. Looking up I found a pair of silvery grey eyes that matched my own and a terrified little face staring up at me. I forgot about my pain for a moment, then. I had been selfish in my mourning. I hadn't realized there were others who needed me.

Scorpius stood there, fearfully. He had never seen me like this before, I supposed. It was natural that he be afraid... It was okay for him to be afraid. I didn't know if he had been told. I didn't want to be the one to tell him of what was going on. The burden on my shoulders that had been temporarily forgotten with the shock of seeing my son returned full force.

Gravity was crushing me again.

So I did the only thing that came into my mind to do. I picked up the beautiful little child and held him close to me. This was all I had left in the world. This was the last living, breathing, flesh and blood reminder of Hermione Malfoy nee Granger. And he was my last life line.

As I held him, I knew I had to be strong. I had to take care of this angelic being. It was my imperative, my duty. I owed this much to Hermione. I would be strong.

I had to be strong...

Somewhere above me, the fates were rejoicing.

After all, their beloved prophecy was going right on track.

**One Week Later: **

It had been an absolutely atrocious week.

Not that I'd had to do much. Taking pity on me, Luna, Ralph, and Zara had scrambled to put together the preparations for Hermione's... _funeral. _

The word tasted bitter in my mouth.

The world had been a frantic rush around me, hustling and bustling. That was the thing about the city. It never stopped, not even when your world was falling apart inside your head slowly. Mine was crumbling, but the city still moved. It had its own pulse, and it sure as hell was not about to stop beating just because mine was on autopilot.

I would simply sit there day after day. Sit there, watching chaos unfold around me. I would not comment nor would I not take part in the activities. My world was simply different shades of grey. I could not go blank, but I couldn't lose control either.

I had to keep it together for Scorpius' sake.

As long as I was alive Scorpius would _never _have to suffer. I swore it to myself and to Hermione if she were to be watching from that other world of hers. Suddenly, I wished I had paid more attention. Were people able to return from that world? After all, she had travelled between them in her sleep. Surely...

I squashed the thought as quickly as it came.

I could not raise hope. I couldn't feel _anything _but sadness. I simply had to hold myself together. I had to keep Scorpius safe.

I had promised.

So, I simply sat there and blankly witnessed what friendship really is. Scorpius would not leave my side, and for that I was thankful. It had been difficult explaining where mummy had disappeared off to. It had been worse attempting to explain that she would never be coming back...

A tear slipped down my cheek and I knew it would be the last one for a very, very long time.

/

"We are gathered here today to honour the memory of Hermione Jean Malfoy..."

I tuned the man out.

Instead, I viewed the immense crowd that had appeared to the funeral of my wife. It was immense and altogether, completely unexpected. When I had walked through the large double doors, the hundreds of eyes that had swept over me roused the first feelings I'd had in a while.

I was glad that she had gotten recognition. After all, there were many faces here that she would have appreciated. Her friends, her family, her beloved ones...

And then there were the annoying fame seekers who had attempted to turn this into an _event. _I was grateful that Zara and Luna and managed to keep these... wretched creatures... towards the back. It was a task in itself, walking down the aisle, Scorpius clinging to my hand. I had sat down next to Potter and his wife, who had stared at me worriedly

I knew how I appeared to these people.

The poor Draco Malfoy, losing his lovely wife at such a young age. I had a feeling that a lot of them were simply here to watch me sob. I knew a lot of them really just wanted a story to tell. I knew I wouldn't be giving them anything.

My appearance was exactly helping. My hair was lank, my eyes blank and sunken. There were dark bags under them and I suppose I'd dropped weight in the past week from not eating. Or retching over a toilet bowl.

Basically, I looked like shit and everyone was too afraid to comment about it to my face.

I had heard rumours that I had probably returned to my Death Eater ways now that the only good influence in my life had died. They were obviously wrong, of course. I still had many positive influences in my life. There was Scorpius, there were Hermione's friends (I suppose _my _friends now...).

I hadn't been a Death Eater to begin with, just a scared boy who had no options.

I wouldn't let Scorpius suffer the same fate as myself. He'd have many options. He would _never _be faced with such...brutality. I shivered at the thought. I wanted to throw up again, even though there was nothing left in my stomach but bile. I didn't want to be here.

Being here just confirmed the fact that I was without my bushy haired book worm.

I felt a hand close around mine. It was warm and gripped me tightly. I didn't have to turn to know Potter was lending me whatever comfort he could. I didn't need to turn and face him to know that there were tears streaming down his face, his wife sobbing into his shirt.

I squeezed back and promised myself I wouldn't cry.

When it was all over and done, and all of the familiar faces had paid their respects and given me their condolences, I was exhausted. Yet, I was afraid that if the day ended, if I allowed myself to rest, then it would be official.

Tomorrow, I would have to begin the process of learning to adjust to life without Hermione. It was something that had to be done. It was something... that I couldn't avoid. Something I couldn't wish away.

But that was tomorrow.

Today, I could be empty and void of emotion. Today, I had no responsibilities.

Potter had decided to stay in New York for a while, for my sake. I wish he hadn't, but nonetheless, I was glad that he had been present to escort us away from the growing crowd that had come to say goodbye to my angel.

Travelling by car had been my idea. Anything muggle was a source of comfort. Hermione would have liked that I hadn't resorted to magic for every little thing... yes, she would have appreciated it.

Staring out the window, I stared at the clear blue sky painted with just a spattering of white. Fluffy cotton on a sea of silk, she had said once on a similar day.

Cotton, indeed.

"Are you sure it's alright that we're staying at your house, Draco?" asked Potter. His voice was tentative. He was afraid to speak to me, as if I would faint at any moment. I supposed I did look weak. That was the last thing on my mind, though. Couldn't he see I was in the middle of remembering my wife? How rude for interrupting.

"Yes," I said deadpanned, not bothering to look at him. I was still staring at the sky, Scorpius sleeping against me.

"I wouldn't want to be a bother –"

"Yes," I repeated in the same tone, not caring he had been in the middle of a sentence.

"Alright," replied Ginny, tactically. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

/

Dinner had been an awkward affair for everyone but me. I sat there, barely eating as had become a habit. Dobby had cooked, returning from the Hogwarts kitchens to take care of his "master". I hadn't objected. I'd barely said a word.

Speaking wasn't necessary, really.

Eventually, it was an acceptable time to excuse myself from my still nearly full plate. Scorpius still needed his bath after all. He complied with me willingly. He had been just as quiet as I had been all week.

I started to wonder if his spark had only been lit because Hermione had been around. I knew mine had.

It was well past midnight when I found myself back on that same dirty old bench in my deserted park. Scorpius was curled into my lap, huddled in my coat that I had draped over him when the temperature had fallen. For some reason, this was the only place that lent me any peace.

This is where it had all started, after all. I could almost feel her here.

"Papa?" a little voice called to me.

"Yes, my love."

"I miss mum. Where did she go?"

When I looked down at his innocent little face, guilt swept through me. There were tears in his bright silvery eyes, his hair a ruffled mess. I was reminded of a time where Hermione had soothed me into sleeping, staring at the sky. I had been remembering a lost child with brown hair, clinging to my trouser leg...

She had stroked my hair and kissed my cheeks. I copied the action without meaning to - wiping his tears, kissing each cheek, stroking his hair back into its neat place.

She had pointed to the sky. I took Scorpius into my lap, pointing to the sky myself. "You see that bright star that, sweetheart?" He nodded. "That's mum right there."

He stared up at the stars in wonder. His little arm reached a high as it could, his delicate finger pointing to a star. "That one?" he asked.

Kissing his forehead, I nodded. "That one, you see it?"

"Yes. Why is mummy up there?"

A ghost of a smile appeared onto my face. He was just as curious as Hermione. Yes, he was definitely her son. "She's waiting for us," I answered seriously. "When we've done everything we have to do here, we can go and be with mummy."

Scorpius considered this for a while, chewing his lip.

"But what do we have to do?" he finally asked. Damn, he really _was _mini Hermione. Too many difficult questions, way too hard to refuse.

"Well... you have to grow up, little man, be a good boy. You have to go to school and get really, really good marks. And then you have to do lots of great things and make mummy and I proud." I tickled him and he laughed. "You think you can do that?"

He nodded and I kissed him again. This was going to be my life now.

"Let's go home, buddy."

Watching him jump down from the bench and fold my coat just the way his mother had taught him, I felt a feeling grow in my chest. It was neither good nor bad. It was just there. And I think I knew somehow that I would just be from now on. Not here, not there. Just around.

Yes, indeed. This was my life now.

**Hermione: **

When I opened my eyes, I couldn't see a thing. The light was so damn bright! For a moment I thought the accident hadn't killed me, but instead had somehow left me blind.

Was that even possible? I was sure that my eyes had been fine before...

My eyes snapped open again and I was met with glaring light. It took a moment, but I realized I wasn't blind. No. I was just staring at... nothing. It was just bright white – nothing.

NOTHING.

How can you stare at _nothing? _

It was mind boggling. I couldn't really even explain it to myself. I wasn't in a room. I was definitely not outside. I was trapped somewhere though, definitely. _Somewhere _being a very broad definition. Was I asleep and someone had just put an optical illusion into my mind?

Because seriously, this was fucked up.

There were no ceilings, no walls, no floors... just white nothing. I couldn't see myself, I couldn't even move. I could just...think and see the white light I suppose.

Was this beyond?

I started to panic. This couldn't possibly be beyond. I mean... It could, I suppose. But that would _suck _like a bloody fucking...

"Bloody Merlin's soggy underpants, Granger! Calm down, you're disturbing everyone!" said a voice. It sounded _exactly _like Riddle.

"Riddle?" I said. No, I didn't say it. I don't have lips, really, so I couldn't have said anything. I thought it.

"Yes, that's me," he replied. "And you'd do well to control your mind like we talked about."

If I had eyes, they would have widened. So this wasn't beyond. This was purgatory. I was trapped for eternity like Riddle.

"You really _are _overdramatic, aren't you?" he questioned.

I was slightly embarrassed, but more shocked than anything. Then immediately, I set about the extremely difficult task of closing my mind. It was a similar concept to occulemecy, except...no one was really attempting to pry into my mind. It was already just _open _to whoever else was trapped here with me and Riddle.

Scary thought.

And then I realized there was a sea of voices in the background. If I concentrated, it became a huge bloody din that was painful to listen to. Were these all... souls? Was I just a consciousness? It was interesting, but more scary than anything I had ever encountered.

"What do you see?" Riddle finally asked me.

"It's all just white," I responded.

He seemed to be musing in silence. "That's very interesting," he finally responded.

"Why? What do you see?"

His tone was dejected. "Black."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, what now?" I asked. "I'm not gone to the beyond, or whatever. What happens now?"

"It seems," said a voice that resembled Dumbledore, "your purpose has not yet been completed. I do not believe you will be released until it has been finished."

I sighed. "Well, what do I have to do now?"

"Now," they said in unison, "we wait."

**A/N: So how'd you like the ending? It's important! - which you've already figured out by now probably. **

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath: **Well, I'm glad I've lived another week! I hope your depression is cured... This chapter answered how Draco took it. : ) Hope you enjoyed it!


	38. Be With Me Always

A/N: Ahhh, I love Tom Riddle. This is a happier chapter! (A little ways in, of course...). And our couple is brought together again! Hope this answers more questions than it raises. Not much else to say except enjoy.

Thank you to: Alexybath, whitestripes123, semantics, JRRTFrk (x2), weirdgiraffe, and xenaz3 for reviewing. You people are lovely.

**Chapter 38: Be With Me Always **

**Draco: **

One day I woke up and it didn't surprise me anymore to see the spot next to me in bed empty.

Sure, it had taken months upon months to get to that point, but I suppose it was progress. Quite a big step, indeed! In fact, I was quite proud of myself that I had gotten this far. This was one step closer to the goal everyone wanted me to achieve.

It hadn't always been this great.

/

For days, I hadn't been able to get out of bed because it had been too painful. I hadn't been able to cope with the fact that every fibre of my being still refused to believe that Hermione was really, truly gone. The sunlight burned, my skin turned waxen, and Scorpius probably thought I was crazy.

Eventually, Potter got sick of me.

He had barged in one day, pulled open my curtains (ones that Hermione had _argued _and bought in the place of shades), and forced me out of bed. I'm stronger than I look, people. Surprised? But unfortunately, he had had his wand on him, and forced me out of bed with magic.

And then of course, proceeded to undress me.

"Get off me! I call this sexual assault!"

He only paused for a moment. "Yeah, well, I call this unsanitary. You _reek_, Malfoy. If you don't take a shower right now, I'm calling in the elf and we're giving you a sponge bath."

He seemed pretty serious, too. I had no other option but to go into the washroom and bathe. "Doesn't mean you have to see me starkers, mate. Didn't know you were into that..." I muttered.

He had the audacity to laugh. "Are you already making jokes? I should've done this sooner!"

"I'm telling your wife you fondled me!" I shouted from the shower.

He poked his head through the door. "Would you like to tell her this before or after I hex your balls off?" I rolled my eyes. He seemed to take this as a good sign, smiled, and shut the door behind him. "Hurry up, will you? Lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes!" he yelled. I heard my bedroom door slam behind him as he left to go downstairs.

I waited a few moments just to be sure he had really gone, then slid down the shower wall. That had been exhausting. I couldn't breathe. So I just sat there, my head pressed between my legs, gasping for breath. The pattering of the shower water on my back didn't help with the nausea or the desperate panic that was still present deep in my chest.

I quietly sobbed, hoping everyone was too busy to come and find me in such a vulnerable position. After all, I had to be strong. I could play the part easily. Very easily. Malfoy's were actors... I'm an actor.

I can act. Yes, Draco, act! Potter had fallen for the banter, hadn't he? Yes, he had.

Ten minutes later, I had stopped crying. I pulled myself together, fixing my stature. It wouldn't do to slouch or cave into myself in front of other people. I practised in front of the mirror and then proceeded to shave. It seemed that in a few short weeks I had aged ten years.

There was a sick pallor about me. I felt diseased. But that didn't mean anyone else had to be aware of the desperate hopelessness eating away at my insides. They did not need to witness how weak I was becoming.

Weeks passed, then months. Life became a slow routine.

Eventually, enough time had passed that the pain had dulled. I didn't feel it quite so much anymore. Sure, the aching and damning loneliness that threatened to tear apart my insides was still there – it was always present. But I had cultivated the ability to ignore it.

After a while, you get used to things.

I was slowly deteriorating from the inside, but no one took notice. Not even me. I would weaken over the years, slowly, but my acting skills had been honed to the extent where no one really had cause to worry.

And, of course, I didn't give a damn.

Scorpius, too, adjusted to this lifestyle. We had decided to move back to London so that when it came time for him to go to Hogwarts, I would be able to reach him relatively easily.

And soon, he did go to Hogwarts and I was left alone at home to socialize with Hermione's old friends and build my ever increasing empire at work. At home, I would write, slowly. And as the number of pages grew, so did I as a person. Life isn't really about yourself. I wasn't living for myself anymore, was I? I was living to pass on a legacy.

Or really just make enough room for my son in the world so that _he _could create a legacy.

And he was well on his way. He was just as studious as his mother, just as noble and kind hearted. And of course, she had passed on the bookworm trait early. He was first in every single one of his classes (except for Divination, which isn't surprising at all considering...) Prefect, then Head Boy and Quidditch captain.

I had a distinct feeling he only worked so hard because I praised him for it.

When he wasn't at Hogwarts, I did my best to do what Hermione would've done in my shoes. I cultivated him. Taught him everything I knew, good and bad. Soon, he knew things about me that no one else would ever dare to know. Things I'd only told his mother.

And for some reason, he didn't love me any less for them.

I had been raised without many values. For Scorpius, I made sure this was not the case. He learned respect early, he learned how to appreciate life. He learned how to smile with abandon.

He was everything I was not, and still he insisted to be by my side instead of gallivanting around with his friends. Was this what _real _families were like? I loved him with all my heart, I would do _anything _for him. He was my life and I'd given him my soul.

But soon, my body had weakened to the extent that even it could not hold out for such a noble purpose. I had done my best, with only a loyal elf at my side to guide me and friends I really didn't count because they were not truly mine.

A week after Scorpius came of age, I went to bed and for the first time in ten years, I dreamed.

/

I was in our old apartment, the very first one we'd gotten in New York. It wasn't technically "ours", but Hermione's. I still considered it as such though. She had.

I had loved this place. It had been the first instance in my life where I'd had _love _and _comfort. _Where someone had finally accepted me as a human and not a murderer. It had been the place where I had learned to live. It had been the place that had held the beginning of our relationship. I would love this place forever.

And it was because of this I knew it wasn't real.

I was lying in bed, Hermione was cuddled against me. Her eyes were closed, so I didn't want to disturb her. I didn't want to disturb anything. I had forced myself not to dream all of these years. Perhaps my mind and body had deteriorated to the extent in which I could not control such things anymore?

Yes, that had to be it.

"I've waited _so _long for this," she said, startling me. So she wasn't asleep after all.

"Me too," I whispered. My voice was hoarse. I was afraid that if I moved or said too much, I'd wake up and then Hermione would not be there anymore. I didn't reach out to touch her. She didn't seem to notice, putting her arms around me tightly nonetheless. "Why am I dreaming again?" I muttered more to myself than to her.

A brilliant smile broke over her face. It was so heart wrenchingly beautiful that I wanted to cry. "You're not dreaming, baby," she told me.

Well. That's strange. "Am I dead?"

"No. Not yet."

She began to stroke my hair exactly the way she would when we lay in bed and I'd had a bad day at work. Automatically, as if it hadn't been over ten years since this action had occurred, I rested my head just under hers, against her chest. It was a familiar movement, even after all this time. Some things you just don't forget.

"Then where am I?" I questioned, breathing in her scent. It was comforting. She smelled like lilacs.

"Right now, you're in a rift between your world and whatever lies beyond it." My eyes opened and I pulled my head away from its resting spot. She nodded at me, knowingly. "Yes, you still have work to do, Draco."

I lay back down into the pillows. "But I'm tired," I sighed.

She smiled. "Then sleep."

"Will you be here when I wake?" She nodded. "I don't believe you."

"That's okay, love. I'll be here, nonetheless." She smiled then, but I was too tired to smile back at her. This was more exhausting than acting. I wasn't prepared to go through something like this again. I hoped I'd stop dreaming, and quick. She came to put her arms around me again, and this time I couldn't help but hug her close to me as well. It had be _so long _since I'd felt this... my body sang in appreciation.

It was pure bliss.

"Sweet dreams," was the last thing I heard her whisper before I drifted off to sleep.

/

When I awoke, I was completely disoriented.

My vision was blurry, I was completely groggy, and it felt as though my mouth was filled with cotton. That was quite strange. I never woke up like this. My body _never _felt this way after sleep. Then again, I never dreamed either. Remembering the dream, I sighed. How had I allowed myself to dream after all these years?

I had promised myself I would never put myself through the pain of seeing Hermione night after night and wishing I could just go back to sleep. So I had worked with potions and such. Had I forgotten to take my potion?

I sighed again and attempted to curl into the fluffy pillows Scorpius had tossed into my bed.

The only problem was, these pillows were definitely _not _fluffy. And then, when I moved to get comfortable, I realized there was a pair of arms wrapped around me.

My eyes immediately flashed open to find a bushy head sleeping against my chest. My heart beat sped up. Was I still dreaming or was this some sort of hallucination? I didn't want to move to test either theory because I was afraid that if I did, I'd disturb the delicate balance of the reality I'd obviously created inside my mind.

But as always, Hermione beat me to the punch.

"How did you sleep?" she asked me without looking up.

"Um..." I shifted to sit up and she followed, her hair sticking up at awkward angles. It _had _always defied gravity. "I slept well." Looking around me, I realized I was still in our old apartment, the one in New York.

I couldn't _physically _be here. Not at all. We had sold that apartment, and three years later it had burnt down in an unfortunate fire. Had they rebuilt it or something...?

But that wasn't possible, either, I realized. Looking around, I found the same exact furniture decorating the room. I knew this was the bed we had slept on because of the little nick in the headboard I'd accidently made one night with the buckle of my belt. Besides, those were my old clothes lying on the floor...

So I was either still dreaming or I was going insane.

Hermione had been regarding me as I'd gone through my calculations. No doubt, she had followed my every thought even before I'd processed them. She'd had an uncanny ability to know what I was thinking...

"You're not crazy, baby. I wasn't lying before. You're in my dream world. Remember? I told you about it..."

"You said Hogwarts." I looked around curiously. This was a magnificent replication. If she was telling the truth, then my mind had created this place. I remembered her telling me that a person's mind would create their comfort zone in this world. Or something like that.

Yes, this was my comfort zone...but... was I actually half dead or something along the lines?

Then the thought hit me. "So where is the rest of my soul?" I asked her.

She smiled. "It's waiting for you."

It didn't seem that she was going to tell me anything else about it, so I just went with it. After all, here I was with the love of my life again.

"I missed you." She hugged me to her and I drifted back to sleep.

/

I woke again to a bunch of whispering voices. At first I assumed it was Scorpius talking to Harry and I had half a mind to tell them to shut up and let me sleep some more, but when I opened my eyes I found myself lying with my head in Hermione's lap. She was speaking to a man with alabaster skin and dark hair.

So perhaps she was right about the dream world business...

"Who are you?" I asked, groggily.

"Tom Riddle Jr." he responded without even looking at me. "I will _not _take no for an answer, Hermione!"

"He needs his rest. You shouldn't be here, anyways –"

"I've just as much right to be here as you do! I can't believe you'd say –"

"I can't believe you'd be such a baby about this, go –"

"I'm not going anywhere! Why can't you for _once _just be –"

"SILENCE!" I shouted. Hermione cringed. "Who the hell are you?" I addressed the man dressed in suspiciously familiar clothing. Something about him just irritated me, but I couldn't place what. Had I known this man before? Perhaps we had gone to school together.

"Calm down, blondie. Want something to eat? I don't see how you can do anything useful looking like that." He regarded my body up and down and I felt... disgustingly inferior. Who the hell did he think he was, talking to me like that? "What will it be, sugar plum?" he grinned at Hermione's scowl and my confusion. "Eggs? Cereal? Go on, ask for some toast."

Well, at least someone found this funny.

Or not. I wanted to smack his face silly. "I shan't ask again. _Who are you? _And what are you doing here?"

He grinned. "Tom Riddle Jr. Heir of Slytherin. Half a dark lord, but not quite. Some call me a raving psychopath, but I really only consider myself a lunatic. Pleased to make your acquaintance." And then he gave me a mock bow.

"You're such a prick, Riddle," I heard Hermione grumble.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated myself.

"I thought you weren't going to ask again?" he smirked. My mouth opened for a comeback, but nothing came out. He seemed too amused for his own good, so I just scowled. That didn't really help. He only grinned a bit wider. "Don't worry, kid. I'll humour you. I'm here to save your life."

"He's not! He was just leaving –"

"I was _not _just leaving! Come on, you inbred mutt! Get up, we've got lots of work to do –"

"Don't talk to him like that! It's okay Draco, you can go back to sleep –"

"He can't go back to sleep! We've got work to do!"

"Fuck off –"

"How rude-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I shouted, again. My head was hurting from their arguing and I was strongly reminded of Scorpius and Albus fighting over what activity they would be doing next.

I got out of bed, stared at Riddle dangerously and pointed to the door. "Out! You will sit there and think about how to _cooperate _with people before you open your mouth again." His mouth opened, probably to rebuke my order, but I beat him to it. "I don't think so, young man. _Out! _And while you're there think about what you've done." Riddle looked affronted, but amazingly, he followed my instructions.

Ahem... not that I'd doubted it wouldn't work or anything...

Thank God for parenting skills.

"And as for _you_," I regarded Hermione once Riddle had shut the door behind him. "You're going to explain what's going on _right now_."

**A/N: Soooo? Don't you just love them? Only two more chapters after this... How heartbreaking! I'd say sorry for the cliffhanger, but I'm just not. Muhahahaha. (Yes, I've had four cups of coffee today). **

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath: **Happy endings are not my forte – but I definitely am trying in my own sick and twisted way. Hope you enjoyed!


	39. Goodbye

A/N: So, like the insomniac I am, I fell asleep past six – overslept past when I was supposed to leave for work and so now updating this from work like a ninja. If I get caught, I'll probably get into A LOT OF TROUBLE. But I still hope you guys like the chapter. All loose ends will be picked up in the next chapter and you'll understand it all.

Thank you to: Alexybath, whitestripes123, semantics, xenaz3, weirdgiraffe, and JRRTFrk for reviewing.

Only one more chapter to go guys!

**Chapter 39: Goodbye **

The room was completely silent, save for the raspy breath of its only occupant. He lay there, apparently asleep as he had for the past three or so days. The entire house around him was ablaze with activity. Healers, nurses, co – workers, and friends - all working to figure out the mystery of the sleeping man. It was as if this room was the quiet core of a very busy world.

It seemed as if every room, save this one, had life. True, Draco Malfoy was very much alive. Indeed, he had a heartbeat, his chest rose and fell as he took in shallow, laboured breaths. This man was no doubt _alive_, but barely so. He was the very persona of death.

It could not be denied. The past ten years had not been pleasant to Draco Malfoy.

No one knew exactly what had happened to him. With the passing of his wife, nearly a decade ago, it was an unmistakable fact that he no longer held any lustre for life or any joy whatsoever, save perhaps for his son. He had dutifully run his business throughout the years, and he had been successful at it too. In public, he had been the epitome of graciousness, a true figure to follow. In private, he had respectfully entertained his guests and had been a model for his son.

But no one could deny that for the last few years, the cracks in his facade had become more apparent.

He had become weak. Physically weak, yes, but mentally still a genius. All one had to do was look at his ever growing empire and businesses to see that. But his body was failing him. It could be seen in his stature, the way his shoulders caved in when he thought no one was looking. It did not go unnoticed, but no one knew of the burdens he carried. It was undeniable how dull his eyes were when his son was not there to observe him, or how he could not walk in his gracious manner any longer.

Yes, it was very clear. Draco Malfoy was physically deteriorating. It had been a slow process, one that no one could stop. It was one that he himself probably would not want to stop. And so, his body weakened and this fact went unchecked by literally everyone around him.

He was physically being eaten away by pain and sorrow– but no one was able to notice.

Until one morning, Draco Malfoy did not get up from bed. It had been a curious thing, indeed. After all, he never missed breakfast when Scorpius was at home. However, only a week after his son had come of age, Draco had chosen to give up on his life it appeared. His body would tolerate the anguish no more.

So, he had lain there unconscious for three days, much to the dismay of his son. For, unbeknownst to Draco Malfoy, his son was very much indeed dependant on his existence. Scorpius did not know _what _he would do if his father were to die and leave him alone in a world filled with duty and responsibility. Tasks he had no idea how to complete without his father's ever present guidance.

But the father of the world's saviour was unaware, blissfully ignorant. And instead of resuming his duty as fate would have it, he lay there permeating a sickly pallor. His sorrow was so evident that it filled the room, creating an atmosphere that was too dark to bear for any amount of time.

And yet, besides all of this, if one was to carefully observe, there was a barely perceptible smile on his face – as if he had finally found peace somewhere, somehow in his mind.

Or perhaps he was not in his mind at all.

Perhaps Draco Malfoy had traversed into another world had had no intention to _ever _come back.

**Draco: **

"I don't understand," I finally said, looking at the both of them.

Hermione and Tom Riddle Jr. (whoever the hell he is) were both sitting next to each other side by side on our old couch in the old New York apartment. I sat in front of them, perched on the coffee table, attempting to understand what they were trying to tell me.

So far, it wasn't going well.

Riddle looked exasperatedly at Hermione. "I'm beginning to think that the inbreeding has affected his level of intelligence!"

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes, much to my amusement. "You're just jealous because he's ten times the man you'll ever be, Riddle," she said, smiling at my resulting grin. Riddle rolled his eyes and his cheeks held the tell tale signs of an embarrassed blush. Gods, I loved this snarky woman. "Besides, he's accomplished more than you have, so quiet down."

"That's right, Riddle," I couldn't help but add in to piss him off a little bit more. "Listen to the lady."

"Least I don't need a woman to fight my wars," he muttered to himself quietly. I would have let it slide, already content with my easily won victory, but Hermione coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "_Bellatrix Lestrange" _and Riddle positively _glared. _"Do you mind? We do have a lot of work to do you know!"

Hermione nodded, acknowledging him. Still grinning, she stared at me once more. "_Basically, _you have to go back to Earth. The prophecy hasn't been fulfilled yet, love."

"But how do you know?"

"Because we're still here, nitwit," Riddle snipped in.

I rolled my eyes. "Alright. But why does that mean it's because I didn't do something properly? It could be anything, can't it? How do you know it's something I have to do?"

From my view I could see Hermione's eyes soften and I knew I had given myself away. Riddle, of course, was oblivious to everything, so he continued blabbing on and insulting my intelligence. He kept going on and on about how I had created this perception of the world we were in, which clearly meant I wasn't dead, which in turn meant that I had to go back and finish what I had started. But clearly he didn't understand that that wasn't the issue.

I didn't _want _to go back. No, my Hermione was here. My place was here. I had done all of the deeds I had been sent to do on Earth. I had created the perfect life for my son, and I had done my part for the wizarding world.

My sins had been paid for. I was meant to be free. And I was going to keep it that way.

Yes, it was true. I had no intention to leave this...world, whatever this place was. Not any time soon, at least. Fate can go screw itself, really. I'd paid enough! I had finally reached some level of peace and she wanted me to go back through misery again?

" – which is why you simply _have _to –"

"You don't have to go, Draco," Hermione said quietly to me. She placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed reassuringly.

Riddle stared at her incredulously, as if she were the craziest thing he'd ever seen. "What do you mean he _doesn't _have to go? Of course he bloody has to go! This is the last part, I'm sure of it!" When Hermione didn't answer him, he got up and stormed out of the apartment shouting all the way down the hall. "Bloody imbeciles! Can't count on them to do _anything!" _

After he had left, we sat there in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, but it was very heavy nonetheless. There were things the both of us were unwilling to say – things, now that Riddle was no longer in the room, that were at the forefront of our mind just waiting to spew forth. But we took the moment as it was. Quiet, reassuring, and perhaps just a little more pleasurable than I was now used to.

"Did you really mean it?" I finally broke the silence. "I really don't have to go back if I don't want to?"

Hermione nodded. There was something in her eyes that I couldn't place... some kind of strong determination. "I meant it," she said, squeezing my hand again.

Suddenly, I couldn't look her in the eye anymore. I wanted to say _so _many things. I wanted to let her know how much I loved her, how much I appreciated all that she'd done for us. How she was the most wonderful person I'd ever had the pleasure of knowing. But instead, when my mouth opened, I said the one thing we both were dreading to hear. I simply was not able to stop myself.

"When you... left..." Hermione cringed at my words. "I was very... _lonely._" I was afraid to look up. If I witnessed the tears I knew were there on her beautiful face, it would be my undoing. "I was very broken."

My breathing was suddenly harsh, as if to speak of the ordeal I'd gone through for so many long years was to bring it back to me.

"I know, Draco," she whispered, hoarsely. "I know."

"I couldn't do it again," I told her, weakly. "I did it for Scorpius, but now he has everything he needs." I looked at her now, found the tears in her bright chocolate coloured eyes. It was important that she know this. "I gave him everything I could, Hermione. I did everything possible..."

"I know you did, Draco."

I nodded, glad that she understood I had fulfilled every duty that was mine. We fell into silence again.

"Draco?" she finally asked, after a moment.

"Yes, love."

"I don't want to stay here forever." I regarded her expression curiously. It was as if she were afraid of what I was about to say.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"This world... it's like _purgatory," _she whispered. "No one told me when I was alive that to be stuck here was... was...like _this!_"

My eyes widened. Purgatory? This place? I looked around myself. No, this couldn't be purgatory... this was our apartment. I could live here forever and not worry about a thing. How could anyone call something as beautiful as this place purgatory? I was a little surprised, to say the least. I had thought I'd been the one suffering all of these years, but it seemed Hermione had not had it any better.

"This... is purgatory," I stated, hoping she'd clarify.

"What you see here is simply... a reflection of your own mind. I'm not physically here, Draco." I touched her face but she only shook her head. "For me, you are simply a voice. I see what you are thinking, the images you produce in your mind...but... for me, it's simply a big, blank, white screen..."

White screen. Well, this was an interesting development. What would it feel like to live on a white screen for ten years? I imagined it wasn't so pleasant, but...

No, there were no excuses. It wasn't acceptable. Hermione had _suffered. _At least I'd had friends and Scorpius. I'd had a life. She'd had nothing, only half dead and in a world where all you could hear were voices.

" – But, I understand if you don't want to go back. I can stay here with you, it isn't as bad as being alone, after all." She smiled at me, suddenly, kissing my cheek and then my lips. "I missed you terribly."

I held her in my arms, still so tired. "You have no idea."

Wiping her tears away, I realized what I'd have to do now. This was the final push. I'd _have _to go back, for Hermione. She couldn't stay here forever... she'd said it herself. And I certainly didn't want to stay in a place where I could not see her. She was too beautiful to forego...

She was stroking my hair again and the action soothed me as it always had. I kissed her again, holding her as close to me as I possibly could. This was it. This was the time for me to get everything done. For the sake of humanity and all that shit.

I actually had no idea what I'd do when I'd get back on Earth. But if I'd learned anything from how to handle things from the Golden Trio, it was to take things one step at a time, yeah? Besides, this prophecy business was very...shoddy. One never knew what one was supposed to do until the time came. And then fate mysteriously "gave you a sign". Bloody bullshit if you ask me, but I had to at least _attempt _something. For my family's sake.

"How exactly do you get back to Earth?" I asked her wearily.

"Are you sure? You don't have to you know..."

"I know."

She kissed me again and whispered a thank you. We sat there for a few more minutes, being selfish and greedy – basking in each other's presence. And then we were both aware that it was high time for me to leave. It was urgent... this was the perfect moment. Everything had built up to this.

"Just close your eyes," she whispered. I did, my lids falling over my tired eyes. "Now focus and find your place. You'll know exactly where to go."

At first, I had no idea what she was talking about. But then, I felt it. It was tugging at me, pulling me towards it. A force so powerful that I could barely resist it. And then, I was falling.

And everything went black.

/

My body was wracked with pain. I'm not sure if that was because I'd been lying prone in bed for days on end or because my body was finally punishing me for not taking care of it properly – but it fucking hurt! When I finally opened my eyes (which I barely managed, that's how tired I was), I was met with the sight of Scorpius closing my curtains more tightly.

"No," I croaked. "Leave them open."

He spun around to stare at me, surprised that I was awake. He rushed to my side and offered me a glass of water from my bedside table, which I gratefully accepted. He lifted it to my lips and I greedily drank as if it were to be the last sips of water I'd ever get.

Well, maybe not _the last. _Second last?

Even I knew I didn't have much time left in this world. My body felt like it would give out at any second. I felt I was about to pass out, have an aneurism or _something. _Was this my sign? Was fate trying to tell me to hurry the fuck up and get over with things?

Scorpius reached for a potion that was sitting corked on my bedside table. I shook my head at him, indicating he should sit down at the edge of my bed instead. He hesitated for a moment, considering what was more important, but finally obedience and respect won over.

I weakly reached for his hand. He clasped mine in both of his own.

"You have so much farther to go, Scorpius. A lot lies ahead of you," I told him. Speaking was truly a burden. I could feel my lungs wanting to collapse and every word brought a sharp pain to my chest. It was as if Scorpius could sense my discomfort, because he helped me lay down in a more comfortable position. I stared up at him. "You don't need me anymore. You have everything you need, son."

He began to cry silently. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, father," he whispered. His voice was tortured.

"Then you do what seems right to you. I trust in your judgement." I coughed and watched him struggle with the idea.

"What will I do without your guidance, papa?" he asked, finally breaking down.

"You're going to go much farther than I've ever even thought of. And that is for _you_, love, not for me to decide. You're going to do a lot of things because you're a brilliant person, not because it's expected of you. You're going to destroy everyone's expectations. You're going to go beyond them."

"What do you expect of me?" He seemed afraid, as if I was about to judge him. As if I were about to lay down the path of his life with my next few words. We both knew my time was slowly coming to an end. At least, I thought he was able to sense it.

"I expect you to be a good person," I told him slowly, watching for his reaction. "I expect you to honour your mother's and my name. I expect you to accomplish whatever it is you want in life. That's it, Scorpius. I'm happy with whatever you're going to do."

He was afraid.

"The world needs more people like you, son," I said. "It needs heroes. Not many people are strong enough to step up and take that role. I think you are."

He shook his head. "But father –"

"I believe in you. Your mother has always believed in you as well." His eyes had a distinctly red quality to them, as if he'd been crying for hours. "You're going to rule the world one day, sweetheart."

My breathing was shallow and I knew it was time to go. He sensed it too. "Please, papa. Don't..."

He hadn't called me _papa _for years, not since he was a little boy. The name brought memories to the forefront of my mind, caused my heart to twinge in regret. I was leaving him here to fend for himself, after all... even if I had made a life for him to live.

"Go to my desk, open the last drawer," I told him, urgently, gasping for breath. He did as he was asked and quickly returned with a file that I had slowly been adding to for years. I had only just finished it last week, in fact. Just one day before Scorpius had become of age. "I want you to have it."

His eyes widened at the title and I understood why. I had given him my last legacy. The book that I had been working on for nearly half of my life was now in his hands. The only copy. And he would be the first to read it.

_Apathy: Love for the Broken. _

"I love you," I gasped.

I was not sure if he had managed to decipher my pained words, but it would have to be enough. I hoped I had done all there was to do – I hoped Scorpius would have enough to go on when it was time to make decisions.

I had now done everything I could.

And so, my body gave way and I lost consciousness. This time, though, there was no way to come back, not even if I wanted to. And suddenly, I was sad. Yes, I would now have Hermione forever. But I was leaving behind my son, someone who I loved so dearly that it made my heart ache. But I knew he was in safe hands. After all, he had Potter to guide him should he need the help.

My job here was finished.

And with one last laboured breath, I took in the last bit of oxygen to live. Eventually, that too was used up by my body and I was gone forever from this world.

/

My eyes opened to a bright light. It was not bright enough to hurt my head (surprisingly, my head didn't hurt at all) and I felt whole. I hadn't felt _this _whole since well before the war. Perhaps not since I was a child.

Somehow I knew that my soul was fixed once more.

I could hear many voices. It was a loud din of conjoined congratulations, but I could not make out any individual people. It was confusing. What exactly was going on? I knew I was dead – I'd just gone through the painful process myself... But all I could see was white bright light.

"You did it, Draco!" Hermione literally squealed at me.

I looked around for her but I realized I couldn't see anything, not even myself. Was this what Hermione had had to live through all of these years? Was this what I was going to have to live through for all of eternity?

As if sensing my thoughts, Hermione answered my questions. "No, we're leaving soon, love," she told me.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked her.

She laughed. "Nothing. Nothing at all." I could feel her warm glow from somewhere around me. Or was it just her thoughts? This was too confusing. Conceptually impossible to categorize. However, for purgatory, it wasn't _too _bad of a joint at least.

"I suppose this is goodbye," said someone who I assumed was Riddle. "Congratulations," he stiffly offered as if it positively pained him to do so. I bet it absolutely did. I wasn't sure exactly why he hated me, but I found I no longer cared. He could hate me all he wanted, but he would now have to respect me.

"Thank you," I said, simply.

There was a light brighter than anything around me. I was drawn to it. I could sense Hermione was as well. Was this what was going to take us away from here?

"Try your best to reform, eh, Riddle?" I heard Hermione say. "It would be a shame to be stuck here for the rest of eternity, wouldn't it?" The light was calling me. Was this absolutely necessary? I wasn't sure I could stop myself from entering it...

"Eh... The world would be a dark place if my intellect was not there to guide it." Hermione laughed, but I could tell her heart was not in it. "I wish you the best, though. And you too, blondie. Take care of her." That surprised me. I wanted to nod, but I found that I couldn't. There was nothing there _to _nod. I didn't exactly have a body.

"Will do," I said, instead. Or thought, I suppose... This was an absolute mind fuck.

"Goodbye," Hermione said. Many voices returned her farewells. Some even said goodbye to me and I awkwardly returned them as well. "Let's go."

And so, as we were fully drawn into the light, the end of all conscious thought came. I was aware of Hermione's thoughts conjoining with mine and we were one. The last thing Tom Riddle was aware of was the sealing of a gate through which we had gone through and then nothing more.

Our parts were officially completed and we were gone.

It was the end of a legacy and the beginning of another.

**A/N: IMPORTANT! I will not be updating on Friday next week, I will be updating on SATURDAY! I hope that's not too big of a deal. **

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath: **Hey, I didn't promise a completely brilliant ending. I think you'll find this chapter much the same. Let me know how you liked it!


	40. The Games of Fate

Exactly 365 days ago, I posted the first chapter of something that would consume my life for nearly a year. And now, a year, 267 pages, 119 353 words, and 190 reviews later I have this last chapter to give you. We've come so far! I had no idea that this would become so big. But I love it. This is the first story I've finished and actually liked.

Thank you to all of you who have been here since the start, everyone that's joined along the way and all of you who have favourited, alerted, and reviewed. You have no idea how much it has meant to me and writing this story, sharing it with you all, has just made me grow as a person. I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I have!

A special thank you to: xenaz3, semantics, Talis Ruadair, Alexybath, weirdgiraffe, and Linnup for reviewing the last chapter.

**Epilogue: The Games of Fate **

**Many Years Later:**

As it turns out, fate has odd ways of operating. Everything happens for a reason, as they say, and this time was no exception to the rule. There are many events that occur, events that may seem singular in existence, and events that seem to have no meaning at all. Humans, as intelligent as they are, only see the linear connections, perhaps manage to see no connections at all. But in worlds above, beyond, and disjointed – the view is not the same.

No, not the same at all.

It is not linear, but a web of interconnected events, thoughts, feelings, emotions all brought together by the one that they call fate. It cannot be ignored. It cannot be destroyed. It is something that humans create themselves. It is something that holds everyone together and at the same time, takes everything apart.

Fate really is a fickle thing. It seems as if it toys with you, extorts from you that which it needs and discards you with everything that it deems useless. Sure, play your part for the higher purpose. Do whatever it is that needs to be done for the good of the world. But resent it not, for that may be an event in and of itself.

Scorpius Malfoy finally understood.

He had pondered it for years on end, why fate had destined his family to suffer such an early demise. He had mulled it over in his head constantly. No, others were not aware of the direction that his thoughts were headed. They had no _inkling_ of the intricacies that had developed in his head. But he had thought of it all nonetheless. He had drawn up a picture of what was, what is, and what is to be.

And it was all the bloody same, wasn't it.

Scorpius had realized that everything he had done so far in life had already been expected of him. He realized that fate had sent him here to do a job – and so, that is exactly what he did. He did what fate had asked of him.

Of course, that's not what he told everyone else. How absurd would that be, exclaiming to the world that he was what he was because fate had told him to be this way! They would lock him up in a loony bin, stash him away somewhere in the darkest corners of St. Mungos, and never let him out. The world was not a very accepting place, even if Scorpius was the most respected member of Wizarding Society to date.

The illustrious life of Scorpius Malfoy was not to be taken lightly. He had started young, quite fresh in fact. Straight out of school and into a domain that his father had built for him. No one had taken him seriously at first, of course. He had had to grab it all by the balls and make it bend over for him. Not to be crude, or anything.

Yes, Scorpius Malfoy had done a lot over the years.

It had started small. Small for him, anyways. He had begun where his father had left off. He had expanded his father's life long work to an international basis, a truly _global _sensation. It had spread to nearly 194 countries – and if that's not global then you're truly messed in the head.

It hadn't been enough.

He was 20 and the owner of a multi-million galleon company, but the fire inside him hadn't abated even the slightest bit. Every time his father's last words to him replayed themselves in his head, he felt a surge of energy that made him stay up all night and pace his office. It wasn't enough to have achieved success people dreamed of all their lives in such a short period of time. No, he would need much, much more to satiate the beating of his overworking mind.

So, he continued what his father had touched upon – things that his mother had completely advocated. He began campaigning for muggle rights with a gusto his opponents could not match. He lobbied for the equality of wizards, witches,muggleborns, muggles, and creatures alike. Had Hermione been alive to see the work he had done for the working conditions for house elves, she would have had tears in her eyes.

He was 25, owner of a _multi-billion galleon_ international enterprise, the face of the new surge in the equality of muggles and muggleborn movement, chairman of 15 different charities, yearly donor to 40 other charities, shelters, orphanages, hospitals, and schools.

But still, it had not been enough.

Even though the wizarding world now was going through what seemed to be the most peaceful years it had _ever _seen in the history of witchcraft and wizardry, Scorpius Malfoy was not satisfied. Despite the fact that Scorpius had singlehandedly ensured that blood status would never be an issue of war ever again, he had not had enough. Regardless of the fact that he had practically rebuilt the wizarding world to its stature before Grindewald had struck his reign of terror – Scorpius Malfoy could not have enough.

So, he thought that perhaps it was his education that was lacking – his drive perhaps needed knowledge and that was all. So, he attended lectures. He read books. He went to forums and institutes of higher learning. Five years and his massive energy led him to be known as one of the greatest minds that ever lived. He had written journals, books, papers...

Yet it brought him no peace.

Does it surprise you that it was not enough?

Most people didn't notice his despair. Most people were simply happy to live under the shadow of what they thought was to be the next Albus Dumbledore. Many were glad that Hermione and Draco had only had one child. Living under a shadow that large would have been...mentally and emotionally difficult, least to say.

No, no one really cared about Scorpius. Sure, they loved him. They praised him to no end. They definitely relied upon him. But he felt he was missing the love he remembered his parents had shared when Hermione had still been alive. He remembered how hollow his father had lived after she had died.

He wondered when he would find his own love. He couldn't sleep at night, wondering if this was the piece of his life that left him unsatisfied. Perhaps it was love that he needed. But what could he do? He could not simply walk around the street, asking random women if they were his soul mate. If there was such a thing, fate would bring them together.

A year later, Scorpius Malfoy married Lily Luna Potter at the age of 31.

It brought some semblance of normalcy to his life, at least for a few years. He was happy for the first time in his life since his father had passed away. His drive for success had been put in the back seat for a moment. Now he had found a new source of accomplishment in his life – pleasing Lily Malfoy.

And thank Merlin it wasn't an easy job.

But soon, Scorpius became aware of all of her secrets. He knew everything she wanted and when she would want it. He knew how to give it to her. Eventually, they had two children – a boy and a girl, but Scorpius was not satisfied any more. Yes, he had a family and he loved them so dearly that his chest ached from it, but he could no longer rely on them to fulfill him.

He needed something _more,_ but he was at a loss to say what. All of his life had been centred around finding _something, _accomplishing _something, _doing _something _or another for the wizarding world. If not for the wizarding world, then for his peace of mind.

And so, a week after his 37th birthday, exactly twenty years after his father had passed away, Scorpius Malfoy could be found sitting behind an enormous desk in an office that was furbished elegantly. But the office, though newly acquired, was not what Scorpius' attention was focused on. He sat behind his lovely desk, poised perfectly over a set of well worn documents. He was on the last page of what seemed to be a large pile of yellowing parchment.

There was a knock on the door and the head of his secretary popped in the door. He didn't raise his head to acknowledge her. He probably hadn't even noticed that she was there yet, he was that absorbed in whatever it was he was reading.

"They're ready for you, Mr. Malfoy," she finally said, breaking the heavy silence.

"I'll be there in a moment," he said, acknowledging her presence, much to her relief. She had worked with him for 8 years and had learned his moods well enough to know he didn't want to be disturbed. She just hoped that he would hurry along with whatever he was doing so she wouldn't get in trouble. She left him in silence, shutting the heavy door behind her.

Scorpius sighed and stood up, brushing away the invisible wrinkles on his robes. He straightened the pile of papers to lay perfectly in order on his desk. He stared at the title fondly. If there was anything that gave him something to work for, it was this.

_Apathy: Love for the Broken ... By: Draco Malfoy _

The script was elegant and easy to read. His heart jolted as it always did when his eyes lay upon the title page. His father had written this and he had given it to him. Of course, Scorpius had seen to it that the book be published... but he had kept the original copy all to himself. He had the unedited version and no one else would _fully _know the lives of his parents. They had been great people.

Feeling inspired, he took a breath. If his parents could go through all of that because fate had put them through it to get him this far, he could live and make example for their sake.

He put enchantments over his office to prevent anyone from entering. It was unnecessary, of course, but one could never be too sure with safety. Advice, compliments of Draco Malfoy – the most paranoid person he had ever known. And with that advice well heeded, Scorpius left the room housing what he believed was his most valuable possession.

Fate really is a fickle thing, he realized as he stared out at the massive crowd that had gathered to see him. Everyone had their own place in life. His mother had happened to be thrust into the position of raising the world's salvation. His father had been dropped in to hold pieces together until he was ready. And he...

Well, he was a special case.

At least, that is what he thought as he began to give his first speech to the public of Britain as the youngest minister of magic ever to have lived.

**A/N: Want to spend another year with me? I've made a goal that I'm going to write my take on every kind of Harry Potter story there is. So far on my list I have: Time Travel fic, Marriage law fic, Veela fic, Head boy/Head girl fic, Alternate dimension fic... Any suggestions? Let me know and I'll most likely write something or another about it in the future. **

**So you'll see quite a lot more coming from me in the future! **

**~ Murtagh799**

**Unsigned Reviews: **

**Alexybath: **No, unfortunately there will not be a sequel to this story. I think that it ended on a pretty good note, but I will continue writing other fics and other Dramione stories. :) I don't think I'm going to write any more one shots regarding this story either – but more about Riddle in other stories in the future. I love him as a character too much to let him go so easily. – About everything else, it's all up to your imagination, mate! (Sorry, annoying, I know).


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